


The Fall of Morningstar

by SilasSolarius



Series: Once Before [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angels, Angels aren't what they seem, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Domestic Violence, Emotionally Hurt Alec Lightwood, Fallen Angels, Hurt Alec Lightwood, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Mpreg, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21826486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilasSolarius/pseuds/SilasSolarius
Summary: To the world, he was Valentine Morgenstern, the monster beneath downworlder's beds. He was the bane the Clave tried to ignore. But to Alec, he was so much more. When Valentine captures Alec during the attack on the Institute, the secrets he reveals will bring the Shadow World to its knees and shake the image everyone has of the Head of the New York Institute.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood/Valentine Morgenstern, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Luke Garroway/Maryse Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood
Series: Once Before [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771807
Comments: 96
Kudos: 352





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelColdheart](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AngelColdheart).



> Request fic for AngelColdHeart

* * *

**The Fall**

The child was one year old, when they first met.

Dancing hazel green eyes had locked onto him the second he'd entered the room, lips curling into a bright smile at the sight of him. The child reached for him, turning in Maryse's arms and straining towards him. He found himself returning the smile with a warm one of his own, one he'd rarely shown to anyone beyond his mother so long ago. Taking the child from his mother's arms to hold him to his own chest, he felt something deep inside his flare and spark to life, the babe's giggle reflecting the event. Warmth flooded his veins, and had anyone been looking, they'd have noticed the flared of hellfire that sparked through his runes.

They noticed nothing.

Instead, Maryse leaned forward smiling slightly. "He likes you, sir. That's the first time I've ever seen him react to someone like that. "

Valentine hummed, glancing down to the child's warm gaze. It was then that he noticed the starbursts dancing through his eyes, the faint shimmer of his skin.

He said nothing, logging the abnormalities for later, instead he sighed softly. "What's his name?"

Robert stepped forward. "Alexander Gideon Lightwood, sir."

Another hum, this one softer as the baby's eyes slowly falling shut as he curled closer to the man holding him. Once he was sure the child was asleep, he handed him back to Maryse, ignoring the way his heart clenched when the babe whimpered in protest.

"He's a beautiful child, Maryse. Robert." Forcing his features back into their stoic mask he turned his gaze back onto Robert.

"I was here for another reason." He began and his subordinate frowned.

"Sir?"

He went on to explain his true reason for arriving, but even as their conversation continued, he couldn't forget the warmth that the sleeping babe a few feet away had invoked him. Perhaps the feeling would go away if he ignored it.

***/***

The first dream came that night.

A dream of an angel with long ink-blackhair dusted with a faint shimmer and laughing star-encrusted eyes, six large black wings trembling behind him as he laughed. Beside him was another angel,hair just as dark, but flames licked the tail ends of his mane, his eyes the color of blue flame.

He dreamed of them laughing, of them loving, and fighting. He dreamed of them fighting, the star-dusted angel begging his fiery counterpart first for understanding, then for mercy.

He watched as the flame crowned angel broke the star-dusted angel's wings and threw him from the silver city, heart shattering as the other screamed in pure agony.

He woke just as the beautifully broken angel was engulfed in flames, a foreign name on his lips.

Beside him, his wife remained peacefully unaware.

***/***

The next time they meet, little Alexander is three years old.

He'd caught glimpses of the child before then, but as his war with the Clave picked up, he found himself at the base less and less.

Moreso, the bonds keeping his Lieutenants in line were slowly growing weaker,especially after the recent loss of Lucian to lycanthropy. This said, he'd rarely seen the Lightwood scion,even if he'd seen plenty of the boy's parents. They tended to leave the boy with Hodge so that he could get an early start on his training, so when he happened upon the child he wasn't expecting it in the slightest.

The boy was in the training room, attacking a dummy with surprising ferocity, hazel eyes red-rimmed even though his tiny face was dry. Blood dripped from his little fists, but he continued on pounding away at the training dummy with all that he had.

He couldn't help but wonder why the child was upset...and where his other attributes had gone. The star-bursts in his eyes were missing, as was the shimmer that had been there when they'd first met. In fact, it was only the boy's reaction to his presence that had given him away.

As soon as he entered the room, the child stilled and turned to face him, eyes widening as they met his own.

"L-lord Valentine," He greeted, voice surprisingly articulate for a child so young and he couldn't help the soft smile that curled his lips.

"Good afternoon, alexander. Training hard?"

The toddler nodded, looking away from him shyly and the older shadowhunter glanced down at the boy's bleeding hands, frowning faintly.

"Do you know how to wrap your fists?"

He found himself unsurprised when the boy shook his head 'no'. Leading him to a bench, he showed the boy how to wrap his hands, watching as he mimicked his actions over and over, until his hands looked as if they'd been wrapped by Valentine himself. All the while, the child listened attentively, hazel eyes full of an intensity he'd never likened to children before.

When Maryse appeared shortly after to fetch the boy for his lessons, he found himself reluctant to part with off the impulse, he watched as the duo left, idly wondering when he would next encounter the child.

***/***

The answer?

Three days later.

The boy had come to him, hazel eyes wet with tears, as his tiny hands carried a baby bird with a broken wing.

He'd begged him to heal it.

He refused and, hoping to harden the child's heart,turn him into the nephilim his parents were, killed it.

The guilt he felt at the child's horrified expression haunted him well into the night.

Three days later, he discovered Maryse was pregnant with her second child, Celine Herondale with her first.

Feeding Cecline angel blood and sparing Maryse should've felt like an atonement, but the way young Alexander continued to avoid him told him that it wasn't.

So he takes over Alexander's training.

***/***

It surprisingly easy to convince Maryse and Robert to allow him to train their son.

After all, despite his young age, the boy is quickly advancing through Hodge's exercises. He starts by teaching the child to use ring daggers, hoping that the small blades would help him adapt faster.

Alexander is a fast learner, full of focus and dedication and he finds himself growing fonder of the child as time goes by, though he does little to show it.

He trains the boy first with daggers, then the whip, before finally moving on to the bow and arrow, watching his young protege advance through each one as if he were born for them. He also discretely takes some of the child's blood,hoping to identify which of the two creatures' blood had given him the strange attributes he'd displayed so long ago.

His plans begin to advance beyond what he'd ever imagined they would and everything seems to be going the way he'd wanted it to…

Then the Lightwoods second child is born and two days later they defect from his ranks, taking his apprentice with them.

The rage he feels at the betrayal is only amplified when Alexander's blood test comes back.

A perfect greater demon and angel blooded hybrid, his human blood completely eradicated by their otherworldly counterparts.

He kills three of his followers to keep from attacking the Clave to get the boy back and instead interrogates his wife on where the Lightwoods had fled.

After all, Jocelyn, Celine, and Maryse were close,they wouldn't leave without giving them a hint.

Jocelyn denies knowing.

He kills Michael Weyland, then, when Celine gives birth...he kills her too.

He tells Jocelyn that she died in childbirth…

She doesn't believe him.

Instead, she gives birth to their daughter, a month later and takes the child with her when she vanishes.

That night he learns the name of the angel haunting his dreams.

 _Helel_.

There is no Helel in the Angel lexicon.

The dreams go dormant.

***/***

His organization crumbles only a month later,leaving him with his son, Celine's, and a handful of followers.

Everything in him blames his wife and the Lightwoods, it's only the memory of warm hazel eyes that keeps him from taking his revenge. Instead he goes to ground, and begins to rebuild.

He pushes everything Lightwood to the very back of his mind, and the brief glimpse of his heart that had been bared...he seals it shut.

It would be thirteen years before he saw the boy again.

***/***

Much like before, he happens upon the boy by accident.

He'd been scouting a potential base for one of his operations, when he'd happened upon him and two others locked in battle with a hoard of ravager demons. He hadn't recognized the boy at first, not with his back facing towards him, body moving with deadly precision. Instead, he'd hoped to see if the group were worth recruiting, their youth hinting at a malleability that his current followers lacked, especially after he'd lost Celine's boy to Maryse.

Almost immediately, he dismissed the two accompanying him, noting the way they seemed more focused on each other, than their battles. No, it was the last that caught his attention.

The teen moved with deadly precision, using his bow as a bladed staff when the demons got too close. No movement was wasted, yet his fighting style was elegant, lacking the fanciful movements most of his generation tried to slip into battles. One of his teammates went down and the boy automatically cut down the demon that killed him, as well as his own.

So enthralled by the battle, he didn't notice the demon that joined the battle, not until it killed the boy's last remaining teammate and began attacking him.

The young man responded in kind, killing the remaining ravager demons, then engaging the newcomer, a greater demon who's name escaped him.

Unwilling to miss out on the possible recruit, he joined the battle, easily falling into step with the raven, who fluidly adapted to his style as if he were familiar with it.

Once the demon was finished, he turned to introduce himself to his new recruit, only for his breath catch in his throat.

Long black hair was shorn close on the sides, a pitch black deflect rune marring pale skin, yet it was the eyes that held his attention. Eyes that he knew very well despite having not seen their owner in over a decade. Eyes that should not be flashing with emotions that he'd dare not have for this person.

"Thanks for the help." Even the boy's voice was startling, just pitching into adulthood, no longer the high innocence of youth.

He'd never felt this far out of his depth before. Still it was easy to paste on a genuine looking smile.

"No problem, you looked like you could need it."

The younger chuckled, a light blush crossing his cheeks and something dark started to unfurl in his chest as a similar face flashed in his mind's eye.

"Well thanks, anyway." A slender callous hand was extended his way, "Alec Lightwood."

He took the hand with little hesitation, biting back a triumphant smirk. All these years lamenting the loss of his young apprentice and the boy had somehow found his way back to him. Still, he had little doubt that the boy would know his name, and with the runes etched proudly into his skin, he doubted he'd join him immediately.

No.

Like his parents, he would take some convincing.

Luckily all he had was time.

Ignoring that tiny niggling thought in the back of his mind that yelled it was a bad idea, he allowed the lip to slip off his tongue with ease.

"Lucian Valentine."

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Since this is Alec's POV Valentine is going to be called Lucien for most of the chapter. Also The Darkness and The Creator are based on Amara and Chuck from Supernatural. The rest of the angel lore is stuff I nitpicked from different angel and demon shows I watch as well as my own crazy mind.

**Chapter Two**

Lucian Valentine.

A tiny smile crossed Alec's lips as the man's face flashed in his mind's eye.

Since meeting him only a month previous, he'd started meeting him for sparring sessions whenever he had free time. The man seemed always available, though he'd yet to tell him which Institute he worked for. Instead the man seemed focused on helping him improve his stamina and endurance, his dark eyes burning with emotions he couldn't name when they fought.

Worse, each passing day he could feel the feelings he'd been suppressing moving from Jace to the older shadowhunter. Feelings he'd spent the past three years ignoring. Feelings that led him to notice the way Lucian's biceps bulged as they lifted him into chin-ups. The way those dark eyes gleamed with pride whenever Alec managed to accomplish something he'd been teaching him. Feelings that had him fighting down a blush whenever one of the man's rare smiles were flashed in his direction.

They were terrifying...so he tried to ignore them.

And even worse, he failed.

With each passing day he could feel them growing stronger, harder to ignore.

And then there was the dreams.

The first one had come to him the night Lucien had saved him. It had featured an angel with long black hair, the ends disappearing into inky flames. The angel was cold, but passionate, fierce blue eyes burning like the flames that wreathed his hair as he fought beside another. The other angel had hair dusted with stars and ice crystals, eyes so bright a red they seemed nebulous in comparison to any he'd ever seen

In the first dream, the two angels were battling beside another figure, this one seeming to blur, never settling on one or the other, forever indescribable. Their presence was strong, stronger than both angels, full of light and warmth and _love,_ yet it sent chills down Alec's spine.

_Their opponent was shrouded in darkness, just as blurred, but unlike their companion eyes the color of the abyss glared out at them, presence full of anger and hurt, tinged with madness. He watched as the angels and their creator fought the being, his heart aching when the flame-enshrouded one was struck by it._

" _ **Samael!"**_ _Shrieked his star-dusted counterpart, his voice full agony and fear before a wave of burning ice shot forth toward their opponent. It struck the being in the center, but the star angel didn't stop. Instead, he pressed his advantage flinging burning ice and half formed stars at the dark presence, red eyes teary and vengeance-filled. The lighter presence helped him light forming complex runes before he turned to the angry star-dusted angel._

" _ **My Helel, my Star. The task I ask of you is one of great importance. One that will one day cause you the greatest of pains…"**_ _They whispered, yet their voice powerful, neither male nor female, otherworldly._

_One nebulous crimson eye slid away from their opponent._ _**"Amara...she will never stop...but the universe needs balance. It needs darkness as it needs light. I ask...I ask you allow me to entrap the darkness...within you, my light."** _

_The angel didn't hesitant and somehow Alec had known he wouldn't. He knew that Helel was aware that without him, the darkness would only grow stronger. If he had to sacrifice himself to protect this fledgeling universe...he would._

" _ **I will."**_

_Behind him, he could hear Samael waking, his fierce mate who would resent their creator for what Helel had chosen to do. The light formed bright, burning runes around him, their meaning lost even to him, and he could hear the soft lyrical chanting of his Creator. Keeping his attacks focused on the Darkness, he never noticed as the runes began to close in on him. The Darkness, however, did. Something mournful and pained flashed through those eyes as the chanting wore down._

" _ **I pity you...Light Bringer."**_ _It rumbled and then white hot pain lanced through him._

_He screamed._

_In front of him the Darkness wavered, a responding shriek sounding before it was absorbed into him. He continued to scream, sobbing breathlessly as the pain worsened. He could feel as his grace was torn apart, feel as the Darkness and his grace melded into one._

_Just as he thought to beg for it to end...it stopped, and a gentle hand was cupping his cheek turning his gaze up so that he could stare into warm, sympathetic eyes the color of what would later be known as honey._

_The Darkness was gone._

" _ **Helel,"**_ _The light he'd finally identified as The Creator said, voice low but so very kind. "_ _ **Samael must never know."**_

_The Star-encrusted angel nodded even as the runes that had been drawn to contain the Darkness etched themselves into his pale skin, into his very grace._

_Behind them, Samael awoke._

Just as the fiery angel woke, so did Alec, his cheeks wet with the tears that Helel had shed as his grace was torn apart and put back together to fit the darkness. Soft, breathless sobs of pain left the teen as he trembled from the phantom pain the star-dusted angel in his dreams had felt and he's prayed to never have that dream again. So lost in a pain he wasn't sure was his to begin with, he didn't even notice as some of his more permanent runes began to change.

Nor did he notice how closely they resembled the runes that had burned themselves into Helel's skin.

The next dream came the day after his and Lucien's first training session. Unlike the first dream, this one was happier. It featured Samael and Helel watching as The Creator created more angels, Samael's lips curled slightly as his counterpart fretted over the fledglings. He watched as the Creator revealed his plan to create the archangels, Gabriel, Raphael, Sandaphalon and Uriel, and his plan to have Samael and Helel nurture and teach them.

Samael took the name Michael, hoping they would respond to him better if they were seen as Archangels as well. Helel followed suit, taking the name Lucifer, the Light Bringer. Together, they nurtured the younger angels, teaching to fly and to fight. Neither brought up the old wars they'd fought in, nor the Darkness that had once ruled beside the Creator. Instead they assigned each Archangel a garrison of their own once they were old enough and taught them softer versions of the drills and maneuvers that had once been their only way of survival. They fell into their roles as the oldest of the Archangels as if they'd never been higher than that, as if they weren't two of the oldest beings in existence.

The most powerful.

He watched and tried to push away the strange mix of deja vu and anger that the dream sent through him.

He woke with rage choking him and tears burning his eyes.

He prays for the dreams to stop.

He prays for Lucien to leave.

Neither happen.

***/***

To his surprise, Lucien is the first to act on the feelings between them.

The dreams continue and he finds his heart torn between the feelings the dreams inspire for the angel in his dreams and the man that shares that angel's likeness. He finds himself falling deeper for Lucien, even as the man seems to grow more possessive of his time, eyes burning with a dark, unnamed emotion every time they parted ways.

Still, he finds himself terrified to act on the feelings, especially with the way most shadowhunter view those with his...proclivities. Lucien, unlike Alec, is handsome, and fierce, able to have any shadowhuntress in the world and Alec finds himself unable to figure out why the man would be interested in him. In the words of his siblings, he's boring. He doesn't party, he trains. He doesn't care for people, Lucien being one of his only friends outside of his family.

There's literally nothing interesting about him.

Yet…

When they spar, he notices that the older nephilim's hands tend to linger. When they talk, he notices how those dark eyes seem to lock on his lips, the way they trace the curve of his throat. More than once, he catches the man's eyes raking over him as they meet up to train or after they spar and it sets his blood alight.

Likewise, he wonders if Lucien catches the way he bites his lip when pins him to the mat when they spar. The way his heart pounds when the man stands behind him to correct one stance or another.

He wonders and he frets, some of the dreams turning into not-so-innocent fantasies of the man who is quickly becoming his best friend. Then...Lucien kisses him four months after they meet.

They're sparring and the older shadowhunter is teaching him a new move. He attempts it, gasping as the man takes him down by using his own momentum against him. He finds himself pinned against the mat, and those dark eyes are burning as they stare into his. He bites his lip, shivers racing down his spine as those hands tighten around his hips.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice, _Alexander_?" He rumbled and Alec felt himself freeze, fear clouding his thoughts. H-had Lucien figured it out? Was he about to lose the only person he cared for outside of his family?

"L-Lucian?"

"The way you look at me. The way your eyes linger, and your _want_." His voice dropped an octave and he leaned closed, his larger body pressing Alec's into the mat. His heart picks up speed, and he could hardly believe this is happening.

Alec finds his gaze dropping to the man's lips involuntarily and he looks away, cheeks burning with shame and fear.

The older man's hand cups his cheek. "Look at me, _Mio angelo_."

"I'm sorry." The archer responded and Lucien chuckled, brushing his lips ever so softly over the younger man's. "Don't be."

Before Alec could question him,the other was kissing him, lips locking in a burning kiss that left the archer breathless. A sneaky tongue traced the seam of him lips and he gasped, feeling it slip into his mouth and tangle with his own.

He whimpered, pressing himself closer to the older man. The hands on his hips tightened until he was certain they would leave a mark. He whined, his hips jerking upwards as he felt arousal race through his veins.

Just as air became necessary, Lucien pulled away, kiss-swollen lips curling into a dangerous smirk that shouldn't have been as sexy as it was.

"Tell me you're mine."

Something about his words rang of danger in Alec's mind but the fog of bliss from having his crush like him back overrode it. Instead he smiled, kissing the older man chastely.

"I- yes."

The older raven chuckled and stood and pulled him to his feet, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulled him into another kiss.

"Tell me, _Alexander_. Tell me you are _**mine**_ , _mio angelo._ "

He can't find a reason not to. Not when those burning eyes are locked on him, those strong arms are wrapped around him holding him in place. Not when everything about Lucien reminds him of the flame-crowned angel haunting his dreams and his heart.

He only has one response he can give, after all his heart has already decided even as his head has not.

"I am. I am yours."

That night, when he returns to the Institute, he dreams of he's falling.

Michael catches him, their grace intertwining in the same way Alec's hand had with Lucien's earlier that day.

It fills him with a sense of euphoria, especially when Michael's wings, much bigger than his own, wrap around them.

" **Tell me, my Light. My star,"** His fiery counterpart whispers, those burning blue eyes locked on his. **"Tell me you are mine."**

" **My mate,"** He whispers in response, and the love in his voice make his heart pound because it's exactly how he feels whenever Lucien looks at him. **"My warrior, I am yours."**

As with when he'd spoken the words to Lucien...they feel so right.

So why is there a churning in his gut saying that it's all going to go wrong?

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine falls in love and has trouble keeping his personas separate.

**Chapter Three**

Later, he'd say he'd planned for things to happen as they had.

He'd say that he planned for Alec to fall as hard and deep in love with him as he had. That he'd set things up so that the boy would feel like he could confide in him.

He'd pretend his own heart didn't clench in his chest when the younger man smiled at him. Pretend that the way Alec would sometimes say his name didn't make him smile.

He'd lie, as he had for so long, that his heart was long gone. Lost in his quest for power, his hunger for justice. He'd be the monster they portrayed him as and he would relish in it.

But, in that moment he couldn't.

As he lay in his latest safe house, Alec sleeping peacefully beside him, he couldn't help the small warm smile that crossed his lips. It was an expression he'd gone so long without he'd almost forgotten how it felt to wear one and _mean it_ , and yet… Yet, with each passing day the young young shadowhunter gave him a new reason to do so.

Whether it was that dry wit and humor that sometimes escaped his shy lover, or the soft, happy smile he tried so often to hide when Valentine complimented him, he couldn't fight the way the other made him feel.

It was quickly becoming a problem.

When he'd originally approached Alec, nearly nine months ago, he'd done so with the intent of recruiting him. He'd been careful not to use his real name, sticking to the pseudonym he'd created using his former parabatai's name and his true one. He'd hoped to sway the teen's alligances then reveal himself.

Then he'd made a mistake.

He'd continued to approach the younger, growing closer and closer to him. He'd become his friend, then his confident, noticing everything the other would never dare to say out loud. He'd noticed the heated looks from beneath those sooty lashes, the faint hue that colored those aristocratic cheekbones. He'd noticed the shivers when they stood closer than normal and the way the teen seemed to both yearn for his presence and dread it.

Even worse, he hadn't noticed it when his own feelings had changed.

He'd barely acknowledged the jealousy that curled low and vicious in his gut when Alec talked about Jonathan and how well he was doing, the longing hidden in his voice speaking of unrequited feelings.

He hadn't noticed the way his mood would drop when Alec was leaving, not until the teen had pointed it out.

Nor had he realized just how handsy he'd been getting with the other.

Not until he'd kissed him.

He'd pinned him to that mat with the intention of clarifying the elephant in the room, of addressing the way that Alec's feelings were distracting them both.

It was only when he saw how much the younger man was enjoying his touch, the way his own blood was singing, a wild roaring rush in his ears, that the idea crossed his mind.

Any thought of revealing himself to Alec was gone.

After all, there was little chance of his love going against the Clave, not when his siblings would be at risk. From the way the younger shadowhunter had spoken of them, he sounded less like their brother and more like their parent. He told of their accomplishments and fretted when they were ailing or injured, spoke proudly of their advancements as shadowhunters while saying very little of his own. He had very little doubt that with Valentine being considered an enemy of the Clave, discovering his identity would run Alec off. Hell it might even turn the beautiful archer against him, a thought that turned his stomach in a way he'd never believed possible.

Tightening his grip on the young man, he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and vowed that he'd do whatever he could to keep the other from discovering the truth.

Anything to hold on to him, forever. He would not be like Michael.

No, he would never be as foolish as the angel who'd facilitated his mate's Fall from the Silver City.

***/***

_How had things come to this?_

_Michael stared blankly at the shackled form of his mate, who was glaring back at him with wet starburst eyes. Betrayal burned in the smaller angel's eyes, the once shimmering curtain of his hair slicked with his own blood and that of those who'd fought against him._

_"Why?" His love rasped brokenly. "Why would you choose them over us?! Why?!"_

_"Because It is what was Ordered." He replied coldly. "The law was to love Humans as if they were Our Creator. You may not like it, but to question it? Lucifer-"_

_"Helel," Lucifer breathed forcing all emotion from his face. Had he not known his mate so well, he'd never have been able to see the way the proceedings were breaking him. "If you are going to sentence me, at the very least call me by my true name, Samael."_

_Michael felt his grace constrict, and his resolve faltered only slightly. Then he was reminded of the creatures his lover had created, the way he'd gone against their Creator in effort to prove humans inferior. He was reminded of the way his mate had started to pull away from him, the way the others whispered of plans for a rebellion._

_His resolve hardened. "Archangel Lucifer, you are charged with High Treason. Your punishment is as stated. You are to be cast from the Heavens, never to return, and into the infernal realm now known as Edom."_

_Lucifer's eyes widened, then he looked away. "So it shall be."_

_Michael pursed his lips, trying to ignore the way his Grace screamed in despair at the impending loss of its mate. Instead, he turned sharply in his heel and left before his composure could break._

_"So it shall be."_

***/***

It's only when he dies, only days after their one year anniversary that he realizes just what the dreams mean.

Alec had been sent on a diplomatic mission in Spain for the week and he'd decided to use that time to progress his plans. It had started off fairly easy, as he'd been able to check in on his…investments as well as plan a few raids his men needed to get done. It wasn't until he'd joined in on one of the raids that things had gone wrong.

They'd been told that the pack would be a small one, only six men or so. Unaware of his impending attack and easily accessible.

The pack _was easily accessible..._ but they'd also been waiting for them with over thirteen wolves, fully shifted.

His men were massacred on arrival.

His own death was much slower.

The alpha had plunged his claws into his gut and decided to gloat as he bled out, however, he'd gotten the last laugh.

His seraph blade had found itself buried in the beast's throat.

As it did, a burning sensation spread from his wound through his body, more intense than anything he'd ever felt. His blood boiled in his veins, heart racing like it was ready to beat out of his chest, and he couldn't-

He couldn't do anything but scream.

Millennia of memories flooded his mind, each vivid and bittersweet, familiar and not.

He was Valentine Morganstern. Rogue shadowhunter, leader of the war against downworlders.

He was **Samael,** later known as Michael. Seraphim then Archangel, former mate of the Archangel Lucifer and leader of Heaven's Armies.

He was neither.

He was _both._

Just as he thought he could take no more, blessed oblivion embraced him and he was distantly aware of his _(their)_ grace exploding out of his vessel ( _body)._

When he awakens, hours later, he smiles.

A wide bloodstained grin baring too many teeth.

He smiles, and tells himself that the way his grace is screaming and reaching in the direction of his home is just an illusion.

He doesn't quite believe himself.

***/***

Alexander was waiting for him when he returned.

With Michael's memories and his own merging, he could easily see the resemblance between the young shadowhunter and Helel. The two bore the same ivory skin and dark hair. Worse, he knew that under the glamour the younger never dared to remove he bore the same stardusted shimmer that his (Michael's) mate had once borne, the same nebulous gaze. It makes him love the boy more, something dark curling possessively around his heart, as those worried hazel eyes locked on his battered appearance.

"Are you alright?" Alec breathed, his hands trembling as the fluttered over his tattered clothing, the blood staining them.

He caught the hands, pressing a kiss to the raven's fingertips. "I'm fine, my love. My iratze healed the majority of it."

The archer nodded, a slight flush dancing across his cheeks and Valentine felt that possessive part of him rear its head. Beneath his skin, his grace was reaching for the smaller man, connecting with something cold and dormant, bright, and suddenly he knows.

He _knows_.

Alexander _is_ Helel.

His love in this life and that are the same, and he wants to reclaim him. He wants to ensure that he knows he's returned to him, that he belongs to no one but him. But-

But.

Helel's grace has yet to awaken. It lay dormant beneath Alexander's skin and after their last encounter all those millennia ago, he is unsure of how the other would react to him forcing it awake.

So he draws his grace back, and presses a chaste kiss on the lips of the shadowhunter before him tries not to feel cheated.

He fails.

And deep within him, the hatred that had fueled his crusade...burns brighter than ever before.

***/***

He can feel his grace growing more restless with each passing day.

Alexander is able to slip away from the institute less often than before and in the dark of night, he reveals that his parents are spending more time in Idris leaving his as the acting head of the institute. The teen confides that his siblings are becoming harder to keep in line, seeing his appointment as a boone for their activities.

Even his own operations begin to pick up speed and eventually it becomes harder to separate Valentine Morganstern from Lucian Valentine. He finds himself growing colder, especially as his grace grows more restless, as Alec begins to grow _sympathetic_ to downworlders and eventually it all comes to a head.

It happened shortly after Alec's eighteenth birthday. His lover had began to speak of the ways he wanted to help downworlders, the way he was hoping to one day create a center for young "Shadowworlders" as the younger called them. With each word his anger had grown because didn't Alexander understand that downworlders were the enemy? They were the reason Michael had lost Lucifer! The reason Valentine had lost him the first time around.

They were a plague.

Alexander had argued against him, and before he knew it...he'd struck him.

His angel.

He'd struck his younger lover in a way he'd never dared to strike Jocelyn, a way he himself had sworn never to strike anyone that graced his bed.

Alec had frozen, staring up at him wide-eyed, then he'd looked away, flinching when Valentine reached for him.

"Alexander, _mio angelo_ , I-"

The archer shook his head, standing swiftly. "I should leave."

"No." He replied, grabbing him before he could reach the door. His lover cringed away, wincing as the elder tightened his grip, but he hardly noticed.

All he could feel was his grace lashing out inside of him, screaming in despair at losing its mate once more.

He couldn't let him leave.

"Don't. You- you can't leave."

"Lucian-"

"I said, no." He snapped, his tone reminiscent of the one he used when his subordinates disobey him. His raven swallowed thickly, fear glittering in those hazel eyes and he could feel something in him, crack. Something that relished in that expression in a gaze that normally burned with rapture and love.

"Okay." Alec whispered, and he pretended not to feel the tremor in his arms as he settled back onto the sofa they'd been sitting on. "I'll stay."

He smiled, a brittle, warm expression, and tried to push away that part of him. "Good."

It isn't until they're lying in bed that night, Alexander's ivory flesh stained with blooming lilac that he realizes he wasn't able to.

***/***

He can't stop.

The violence becomes more common place as the darker parts of his personality begin to overshadow the persona he'd built for Alexander. He watches in equal parts despair and rapture as his fists paint his lover's flesh in shades of reds and violets, as his angel begins to shatter. He watches as his love grows ill, as he starts to withdraw into the shell he'd spent so long drawing him out of, timid in a way he'd rarely been. Even their love-making is affected, rougher than he'd ever allowed it to be when he'd been with Jocelyn and full of a power imbalance that's almost heady.

It becomes their new way of life, and whereas once he'd have been tempted to change it, he finds himself unable to. Not when he's suddenly closer to having Alexander join his side than he'd ever been. Not when he's almost completely broken Maryse's eldest.

It becomes so comfortable, that he finds himself completely unprepared when Alec arrives at their home, his face withdrawn and cold.

"Alexander?"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn you in, _Valentine Morganstern_?"

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER SPECIFIC TRIGGER WARNINGS: GRAPHIC DOMESTIC VIOLENCE; CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE; VOMITING; INTERNALIZED VICTIM BLAMING; MPREG

**Chapter Four**

It was all a lie.

Numb, Alec could only stare at the words written in the file before him, at the picture that had accompanied them. He could hear his tutor speaking, the clinical tone of the man before him not registering as he stilled the tremor trying to overtake his hands.

How?

How had he missed it?

Worse, how could it all have been a _lie?!_

How could he have believed it?

Swallowing thickly, he forced his gaze away from the file to the tutor as the man announced that their lesson was ending. He moved to hand the file back, but the elder shook his head.

"Keep it. You will need to read it in order to understand the consequences of Valentine's rebellion and our next lesson."

Nodding he took it back, dismissing the man politely. Once he was gone, he locked the door to his office and placed the file on his desk, staring at it.

The words printed on it were damning, almost as if they were taunting him for his failure, his ignorance.

**Valentine Joseph Morganstern**

**Age: 38**

**Designation: Criminal**

**Crime (s): Treason, Mass genocide, murder**

And yet, even more damning, was the face of his lover staring back at him.

*/*

In the end, it takes him three hours to read every single word written in the file.

He ignores the knocks on his office door, the buzzing of his phone, even the niggling twinge of concern from his parabatai rune, and just _reads._

Every word throws him further into numbness spreading through him, every crime, every photograph driving him deeper into the darkness and once he reaches the end, he can do nothing but stare blankly down at his desk.

Two years.

His lover of two years was a genocidal mad-man, hiding behind the name of his dead parabatai. A bigoted, ruthless man, whose crimes were unspeakable.

A man who was supposed to be dead.

Men, women, _children_ , his lover, had killed them all. Had tortured them, some of his crimes as recent as a year ago.

Trembling hands come up to cover his mouth, bile burning his throat and suddenly the apathy shatters leaving devastation in its wake. With a gasping sob, he finds himself retching into the bin beside his desk, the horrors captured on the pages before him flashing behind his eyelids with that damning face.

He finds himself wanting to shower, sure that those blood-stained hands had left traces of their crimes embedded in his skin, the cruel smirk in the picture searing itself across his lips in a parody of the kiss he'd shared with the man before he'd left their apartment that morning.

Another retch escaped him, and he sobbed harder, wrapping his arms around himself in a parody of a hug that was almost painful, especially with the bruises still painting his skin.

By the angel, how had he missed it?

After all, Lucian had never been quiet about his views on the downworld, and following Alec's return from Spain, his views on them seemed to have grown even harsher.

In addition to that, Lucian had shown that he was quite capable of violence, though Alec knew the latter was more his own fault than his love's.

So how had he missed it?

Worse, how could he have fallen in love with such a- a _monster_?

How could he still love one?

The questions were daunting, driving his anxiety higher because he did. Even reading what he had, knowing what he did, he still loved the man he knew. The man that loved him so deeply he looked past Alec's faults. That held him on the mornings that he got to sleep in, breath warm against his throat as they slept off the night's passion.

Black spots crept into his vision, and he tried to calm himself to no avail. Barely managing to move away from the trash, leaned against the side of his desk and allowed them to drag him into oblivion.

Yet in that moment, he knows what he's going to do.

He also knows he's going to regret it.

***/***

_He's burning._

_Screams tore themselves from his throat as he fell, the scent of his own flesh and feathers burning permeating the air around him. For so long, he'd been falling, the ache of betrayal, the agony of his broken mate-bond, and his burning essence making up what felt like the entirety of his existence._

_Why?_

_Why didn't they understand?_

_Why hadn't they let him explain?_

_He'd only wanted them to realize that the humans were pulling them away from their family. That by giving the human Free Will and forcing theirs, they'd drive their family away._

_So why had they forced him away from his home?_

_Why were they forcing him through such torture._

_Another cry left him, the cold gaze of his mate as he'd been thrown from the Silver City just as painful as feeling his body continuously burn and heal, only to burn again._

_He was almost thankful when he hit the burning sands of Edom, even as it stole his conscience._

_At least then, he could pretend that it was the reason he hurt._

***/***

" _Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn you in, Valentine Morganstern?"_

He can almost see the change the words ignite in his beloved as they leave his lips.

Their relationship had changed so much in the past year that he'd often found himself both yearning and dreading his return to the man before him. His heart craved the moments of affection the older gave him, craved the warmth he gave when he was in his best moods and that tiny smile he only seemed to give him. Yet, he knew the price that came with those gestures. The temper and possessiveness lurking beneath the kindness and warmth.

Those hands that held him so close had also painted his body with blossoming bruises, cut off his air as he threatened to leave only to release him when he promised to stay. They'd driven him to new heights and dragged him to new lows and everything in between, often oscillating between passionate and painful like the swing of a pendulum.

And in this moment, the pendulum would no doubt swing towards painful.

He could see it in the darkening of his lover's eyes, the downward turn of his lips.

The brief clenching of his fists.

"Hm, what gave me away?"

He didn't deny it.

His heart gave a painful jolt in his chest at the notion and something must have shown on his face, because the older man barked out a laugh.

"Were you hoping it was a lie? Poor, poor, Alec." He sneered.

"Y-you- _how could you do that?_ " He whispered. "Children, Luc. No matter that it was Shadow Worder children, they were still _children_! Innocents!"

"They were demons! Downworlders are a plague! Man, woman, child, there are no innocents, Alexander!"

He faltered back a step, shaking his head, his eyes burning with tears that he only barely kept from falling.

"Valentine Morganster-"

"You aren't arresting me, _mio angelo_." It wasn't a taunt. It was cold, factual, as if he were stating an observation, yet it sent a trill of fear down his spine because he knew that tone.

"I'm not yours, n-not anymore. You're under arrest for murder, genocide, and treason."

"You're testing my patience, my love." Another observation, just as cold and the fear worsened, his hand trembling as he brought up his steele to draw an incarceration rune, the other retrieving the handcuffs from his back pocket.

"Val-"

He doesn't see him move.

The backhand that whips across his face, stops him mid-sentence and he's curling in on himself before he can really register that he's supposed to do anything else.

"You're not arresting me, not leaving me. Not like she did. Not like _they_ did." Another strike across his face and he hits the ground.

Nothing makes sense.

Yet its all too familiar and something in him is screaming.

Blow after blow rains down on him and the screaming thing in him cries out to his lover, because this is so much worse than anytime before.

This time he's sure that his lover means to kill him, and the man's words do nothing to dissuade this notion.

"No one else will have you. None will know your touch, your love. Not in this life. Perhaps this life is too early for us. But in the next one, you will return to me. In the next one, the plague will not stand between us."

Reaching out weakly to the man standing above him, he tries to see his beloved in the man killing him. He tries to find a shred of truth in those cold, cold eyes.

Its there, just the tiniest gleam of remorse, but he holds onto it even as the darkness drags him into its depths.

As oblivion takes him, he tries to figure out why he feels like he's falling.

***/***

He awakens on the doorstep of the institute, his battered body shaking with the cold, and his mother's dark eyes gazing down at him in horror.

"Alec!"

He tries to give her a reassuring smile, only to wince as the attempt pulls at the bruises on his face. She jerks back, calling for his father as said attempt fails and he wants to tell her he's fine, yet...he's falling back into the darkness before the words can leave his lips.

***/***

"Oh, _mijo_. Who did this to you?"

"M-mom?" He rasped, hand clenching around the one lying in his own and she squeezes back gently, her eyes dark and tearful as they gazed down at him.

"We almost lost you. Both of you."

His brow furrowed at her words, the fog of sleep lifting as they registered in his mind.

"Both?"

She chuckled, nodding her head down toward the tiny bundle he'd only just noticed she was cradling with her other arm.

"Your magic, the one tied into your glamour, sensed your fear, your desire to keep your relationship hidden and hid this little one as well. When the silent brothers brought us here to heal you and removed your glamour, they found him."

He blinked, the words taking a moment to process and once they did, his heart stilled in his chest.

That was his son.

His son with... _him_.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Suddenly wide-awake, he stared at the baby in his mother's arms, making no move to take the infant.

"H- How old is he?"

"Just over an hour old. He's been waiting to meet you."

She leaned forward, moving to place the child in his arms and for a moment, he almost refused. He was too tainted, his hands stained with the blood of his lover's victims. Their son, despite his father's legacy, was innocent.

Pure.

He couldn't.

"Alec?" His gaze drifted to his father, who'd been watching them both silently.

"I can't."

The man shook his head, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Your child needs you, son. The rest we can deal with in time, but for now, hold him."

" _I can't_."

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "I'll hurt him." He whispered, the partial truth leaving his lips nearly inaudibly. He couldn't bring himself to say it all, as if doing so would make it more real.

"Is it because of his father?"

His head shot up, shocked starburst gaze meeting steady chocolate ones. "W-what?"

"His father was the one who hurt you." Robert murmured, the certainty in his voice shocking the younger man into silence. "That would be the only reason you didn't fight back. Outside of sparring, you would never raise your hand to someone you love. Not even to defend your life."

"I'm sorry." He replied, fist clenching at what he perceived to be his father's disappointment, but to his continued shock the man shook his head.

"In most cases, it is a trait to be admired. In this one, I almost lost my son and my unborn grandson, then had to watch my son fight for his life in a three week coma."

"T-three weeks."

His mother nodded, gently placing his son in his arms while he was too stunned to deny her. Automatically, his arms shifted to cradle the babe in the same fashion he had with Izzy all those years ago. Hesitantly, he looked down, only for his heart to melt at the curious dark eyes looking back at him, a faint shimmer so much like his own, leaving stardust sparkles across the baby's skin. A tuft of ebony curls sat atop the child's head mirroring his, and he was smiling before he knew it, even as his mother continued to speak.

She told him of trying to heal him in the institute's infirmary only to move him to the City of Bones so that the silent brothers could help, when his iratze kept vanishing and he began to burn. About being happy that his siblings were away on a mission for the Los Angeles Institute, even as Jace had called her frantic about his parabatai rune.

She told him of the way the Silent brothers had been startled to discover he was one of Mihael's blessed, and that he was carrying. That it was his magic, which had been locked away all those years previous that was causing his body to burn as it fought to escape its bonds and heal him. The way they'd been forced to perform an emergency surgery to deliver his son after the babe's heartbeat began to drop.

"We'll have to find a way to explain him to the Clave." She finished, gaze softer than he'd ever seen it.

He tilted his head in question, but it was his father who answered.

"Your son is proof that you had treasonous relations, Alec. If they find out you could be deruned, worse if they discover your glamour and your magic."

He stared down at the babe, watching as he started to mouth at his shirt. Beside him, Maryse smiled.

"He's hungry."

Showing him how to nurse the child, she watched as something dawned across his face. "You and Dad have been in Idris for almost a year and it's not that uncommon for shadowhunter women to hide pregnancies, especially if they're as high in the Clave as you are." He began, pain and reluctance in his voice and she knew what he was going to say before the words left his lips.

"You want us to claim him as our son."

He nodded, staring down at his son, his heart aching at the reality of their situation, the lie he would be forcing on his child.

"Yes."

"If- if we do this, your mother and I will have full parental custody over him. We will consult you in everything, but in the eyes of the Clave, he will be our son, which means he will be Idris more often than you are."

A tear escaped the teen before he could stop it. "I know. But if the Clave finds out, they'll kill him."

Maryse closed her eyes, pained. "What will his name be?"

"Maxwell. Maxwell Joseph Lightwood."

He whispers, and tries not to feel like he'd just signed his son's life away...and that somewhere, his love would hate him for what he'd just done.

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Alec IS still in love with Valentine in this chapter and it is mentioned. Just thought I should warn you.

**Chapter Five**

She found him in Max's room, the babe cradled gently in his arms as he rocked him. Since waking from his coma, he'd spent much of his time with his son, whispering words too soft for anyone but him and the infant to hear. She'd tried to warn him against growing attached to the child, knowing it would devastate him when he finally returned to New York and was forced to leave Max behind, but he'd only given her a small broken smile and told her that it was too late for him not to.

Worse, Max seemed just as attached to his carrier, the infant lighting up every time his "mother" entered the room. He was most well behaved in Alec's arms, often growing agitated when the archer left his sight for too long. And he was possessive of his mother as well, often throwing a fit if Alec's attention left him for longer than a moment. When she'd commented, Alec had only chuckled, heartbreak and pain in his eyes, but had said the child had most likely inherited it from his other parent.

Which brought her to the crux of the matter.

In the six months that they'd been in the City of Bones, not once had Alec spoken of the man that had nearly killed him. Beyond commenting on Max's inherited possessiveness, not a word about his former lover left his lips. Even on the nights where the nightmares seemed to drag him under, still he didn't cry out the man's name. Instead he cried in silence, almost as if he were protecting the man even in his sleep.

When they asked, he would change the topic or ignore the question.

They didn't know the man's name, how they'd met, or even how long they'd been together. It was...frustrating.

Everything she'd done since defecting from Valentine's ranks had been done with the intention of protecting her children. To find out that she'd failed so badly, that this faceless bastard had almost taken her precious firstborn from her, had her blood screaming for vengeance.

For _Justice_.

Both of which she was denied due to her son's large, loyal heart.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the scene in front of her, watching as her son began to sing to his child.

It was something she hadn't seen him do since Isabelle was a toddler, something she'd never known he'd missed until the sound of it reached her ears for the first time in years.

_My heart_

_This song is for you_

_To always remember_

_When days are~ blue_

_When skies are cloudy_

_Your heart heavy_

_Remember this song_

_I sing for you_

Max yawned, watching his bearer with sleepy awe-filled eyes, while Alec gazed down at him hazel eyes flashing with the starbursts the glamour hid from the rest of the world. His lips twitched into a tiny smile and he pulled the child closer. The song softened and she almost didn't notice his voice changing, the language one she didn't recognize.

But the love in the words was unmistakable and once more she hated the choice he'd been forced to make. The shadows cast by the moon flickered, seeming to form wings behind her son but when she looked again they were gone.

Finally, the song ended and Alec's features twisted into a tortured expression, full of love and betrayal.

"He would have loved you," he whispered almost as if he couldn't bring himself to say the words any louder. "He is a horrible man...but-" He cut himself off, swallowing thickly.

"He nearly killed you." She couldn't help but interject, able to see clear as day that whoever the monster was...her son still loved him. Loved him more than she'd ever believed anyone could love a monster and she'd been there to see Jocelyn and Valentine's marriage play out.

Alec nodded. "I know...but, he didn't." He breathed out a shuddered breath, and looked up at her with tears shining in his glamoured eyes. "He could have. Anytime after I came home, he could have killed me...and I never would've made it back here. I have to believe that somewhere deep inside him...there's some good. Someone that loved me as much as I loved him. If I don't," He bit his lip. "If I don't, he'll win. He'll win because he'll have broken me."

Maryse felt her heart tinge and she pulled her son and grandson into her arms.

"Alexander," She began, her voice firm, sad, and just this side of gentle. "We cannot control who we love. Nor can we control our hearts. Nephilim we only love truly once, very rare few love twice. I believe, one day, you will be one of those few. Someone will come along, someone you can love and be loved by as freely as you wish. Someone you don't have to hide around." Her voice hardened and she sighed.

"Until that day, until the day you are sure they are worth it, harden your heart. Become cold, unless with your family. Wearing your heart as you do now, sewn into your sleeve and bleeding for all to see, it will only end up with you getting hurt again."

He looked down at his son, thinking of how easily he'd been lured in by his lo- by _his_ warmth, by his fierceness, and he nodded to himself.

To his mother.

He would. He would learn to harden his heart, learn to keep everyone out but his family. He would become the way his mother was when she was in public, aloof and cold, and never again would he allow himself to fall for the trap that was _love._

The same love that had nearly killed him, that had kept him from raising his hand the first time his former lover had struck him. Had made his hands tremble as he went to arrest the man and hesitate as his voice had fallen to that low, almost casually dangerous tone.

No, he wouldn't fall in love again. Emotions were only a distraction.

Deep within him, a tiny flickering thing screamed.

***/***

He should've killed him.

Gritting his teeth, Valentine couldn't help but pace angrily as he pondered his own inability to kill his beloved, remembering the way his body had betrayed him as he'd brought his fist down for the final blow.

The way his grace had cried out in terror, in horror as he stared down at the bloodied form lying at his feet. As he'd felt the tiny, flicker in his love's dormant grace.

A child.

 _A son_.

His mate was pregnant.

Pregnant just as he and Heylel had wished for all those years ago, when the earth was a mere fledgling. When Heylel found joy in teaching the fledgling angels, his warm heart bursting with joy and _longing_.

It had been that flicker, that tiny barely sentient soul, that had stilled his hand. Or so he'd like to believe.

Conveniently, he would ignore the nightmares that lingered behind his eyelids. Nightmares of watching his beloved mate fall from the Silver City, his wings broken.

Of watching as Alec pleaded and begged for him to stop, his pale features stained with his own blood.

Of a tiny indistinguishable bundle lying lifeless in his archer's arms.

Ignoring them all, he continued to pace, the shadows around him shifting restlessly and his grace snarling beneath his skin, aching for the mate he'd betrayed once again.

***/***

Alec had changed.

Jace could see something had changed as soon as his Parabatai returned to the institute after almost a year away. According to their parents, his brother had been with the Silent brothers finishing his Head of Institute training and taking care of something for them. However, as the three older Lightwoods approached them, he could see something in his brother had changed. Something that had left his once warm, if a bit socially awkward brother, the cold man standing in front of him.

Make no mistake, there was still love and warmth in his eyes, but his expression beyond them was impassive, aloof.

He wanted to ask, and everything in him told him that he should, yet his attention was drawn away from the older man by their mother. More importantly, by the child in her arms.

"Isabelle, Jace, I have an important announcement for you." Something in Alec's eyes tightened, something indiscernible flashing in them. "This is your little brother, Maxwell."

Beside him Izzy's eyes widened and she grinned, reaching forward and the toddler, no more than one years old glanced over at Alec, then at Izzy. Alec smiled warmly and nodded and the babe giggled.

"Iz-Iz." He babbled and their sister nodded. "Hey, Maxie." She responded tearfully and the baby reached for her. She took him hesitantly, Maryse showing her how to hold him with a gentleness that belied her normally firm nature. Jace swallowed, leaning over when his parabatai pulled him over to the two.

"He's your little brother too, Jace." The archer reminded him, and even his voice was softer. Warmth spread through him at the words, enough so that he momentarily forgot his worry. Instead he brushed a sword calloused finger over the toddlers head and smiled at the dark eyes staring up at him curiously.

"Hey, little bro." He murmured and Max smiled, wide and innocent and he found himself vowing that he would do everything to protect that smile.

Beside him, he knew Izzy was doing the same thing.

"Was this why you were in the City of Bones?"

Their dad nodded. "Yes, your mother's pregnancy was a difficult one this time. We were lucky that Alec was there as well. He's been helping your mother recover."

Jace nodded, but something in those words rang false.

 _Wrong_.

Still, sneaking a look at his parabatai, at the new cold settling over him like armour he decided to leave it alone. Something told him that he didn't want to know.

***/***

Settling back into his life at the institute is almost surreal in just how easy it was.

The first month, Jace watched him, his gaze both too knowing and curious at once. He knew his brother had felt their bond burn, felt just how close to death Alec had become and yet the lie spilt from his lips the moment his parabatai questioned it.

A demon ambush during a solo patrol.

Jace doesn't believe him.

He never says anything different and eventually the other lets it go.

Life goes on.

His mother, though not the worst mother, seemed to have been woefully unprepared for how much Max would dislike being seperated from Alec. She barely has the babe in Idris for three days before she returns him under the guise of Alec watching over him while his parents' marriage was in turmoil.

(It wasn't a complete lie. He doesn't say so out loud.)

Instead he watches and nurtures his s- _brother_ , watching as the child meets milestone after milestone well before many of his peers.

Notices the familiar possessive streak the child possesses and the blooming intelligence. Watches as he grows and advances.

One year passes.

Then two.

Then, before he knows it, he's sending Max to Alicante for the academy.

He'd never been more terrified and proud in his life. His siblings tease him for his overprotectiveness of their youngest brother, and he takes it with a scowl all the while trying to not to feel like he'd just signed his son's life away for the second time.

Instead he tried to settle back into his life, into his role, and let the ice encase his heart even further.

He succeeded too.

He was cold outside missions, but firm enough that his people knew he could be counted on to have their backs. He read every letter that Max sent, trying not to feel the swell of smug possessiveness that curled around his heart when the child sent a letter addressed specifically for him.

He monitors his son's progress, ruthlessly squashing thoughts of how proud his former lover would've been to know their son was a genius. That he, for all that he preferred his comic books and manga, was being praised as one of the best shadowhunters of his generation.

He squashes the dreams and the longing and the _loneliness_ and he keeps moving.

He keeps moving and he finally manages to get his head above water…

Just in time for _Her_ to come crashing into his life like a tiny red-haired hurricane, bringing chaos and worse, **Him** in her wake.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Clarissa Fray.

The girl stumbled into their life, dragging them into her family drama and while he didn't hate her at first, it's a near thing. He hates how his siblings seem willing to drop everything on her whim, how she seems so eager to drag them into trouble, as if the most precious people in his life wouldn't be punished for the unsanctioned missions and trouble with downworlders she constantly stirs up.

He hated how she trampled all over their laws and customs, not even taking the time to learn about the world she seemed so eager to prove that she was a part of. The way she looked at him with the "knowing" look in her eyes, constantly accusing him of being in love with Jace.

Which, what?

He hadn't had a crush on Jace in years, not since-

All things considered, he'd considered helping her, had been willing to try if only to protect his siblings, until now.

"She's Valentine's daughter?" The question is delivered in a deadpan, anything to mask the panic because _oh._

Suddenly some parts of the girl's personality, parts that had rubbed at him and nagged at him made sense.

Her stubbornness, her conviction that her way was the right way. The way she'd snap at people when things didn't go her way.

No.

_No._

He'd finally been healing. Finally trying to move on from that man, and now faced with her, he could feel the ice guarding his heart tremor if only slightly.

Valentine did not willingly part with what was his and if he really did have the girl's mother, if she truly was his daughter, he'd be coming for her.

For everyone that stood in his way in his path to get her...including Alec.

Staring at the girl in horror, carefully masked as it is, he's barely able to hear Jace defending her. Could barely see the look of disapproval on his sister's face and the hurt on the girl's face.

Instead, he shook his head and turned away, trying to keep his hands from trembling.

***/***

Beautiful.

Glancing over the security footage he'd received from his spy in the New York Institute, he couldn't help but allow his eyes to linger on the form of the current acting head. His love had grown even more alluring in the eight years that they'd been apart, his hair having grown out of his preferred mohawk into a mess of dark curls. His eyes, once a doorway into everything he was feeling, seemed to have iced over, his thoughts shielded by a truly fearsome scowl. He'd broadened, no longer slender as he had been all those years ago, muscle packed onto his lean frame, his shoulders broad and powerful and he couldn't help but picture what the younger man would look like beneath him once more.

If he would scream and whimper and _beg_ as he had each time they'd fallen into bed together, or did his new found stoicism extend into the bedroom.

A dark smile curled his lips at the thought, then he turned his attention to the others in the footage.

Jonathan Weyland seemed to have grown up as well, and he couldn't help but snort at the boy's obvious infatuation with Clarissa. While he held very little in the way of paternal love towards the boy, he couldn't help but wonder if the child had retained any of the lessons he'd tried to teach him. Anything beyond his training with his blades which he seemed to be doing well in. He doubted it, and he knew that it was his beloved's fault. Him and his damn heart.

Beside him stood the girl who could only be Maryse's daughter, Isabelle. She was dressed much like her mother had at her age, tight clothing designed to entice and hold one's attention. If he remembered correctly from Alexander's previous talk of them, the girl was one of the brightest of their generation and so far everything he'd seen seemed to attest to that fact. However, unlike her mother, the girl seemed eager to partake in relations with downworlders, something that sent a tremor of disgust down his spine because she wasn't doing it to gain anything. No she was doing it simply because she wanted to, although she normally played it off as intelligence gathering.

Clarissa stood between her and Jonathan, all doe eyes and soft smiles, and he found himself wondering why he barely felt anything for the girl. Perhaps it was her resemblance to Jocelyn. Oh, how he loathed his ex-wife and all that she'd stolen from him, and as he looked at his daughter, at the strong likeness she bore to her mother, he couldn't help the sharp spike of loathing that shot through him. Yet there was also a trill of possessiveness, of interest, because the girl was close to Jonathan. Close to the man who shared a part of his beloved's soul and it would be easy to lure her in. After all, his gaze shifted to Jocelyn's unconscious form, He already had something she wanted.

His gaze moved back to his lover, who's attention had moved from the group to another.

A child.

The boy, no older than ten years old, had shaggy curly hair similar to Alexander's, his eyes a kaleidoscope of hazel and green that looked too much like Alexander's glamoured eyes to be coincidence. He was staring up at the archer, pride and heroship in every feature and unbidden Valentine felt his breath catch in his throat.

Was this boy-

Could he be-

He turned to his spy.

"Who is that boy?"

She frowned slightly, then smiled thinly. "Maxwell Lightwood, sir. He is Maryse and Robert's youngest son."

"How old?"

"He just turned eight."

A truly frightening smile crossed the man's lips, and the woman backed away slightly. "Oh _Heylel_ ," He crooned, low and dangerous. "Did you really think that you could keep this from me?"

Beside him, his spy shivers.

***/***

He knows the second their eyes meet that the shadowhunter that entered the Institute in a glamour isn't Valentine.

He knows it in the way that there is barely any recognition in those eyes, the lack of possessive rage he'd grown so used to seeing in them everytime the man gazed upon him. He knows it in the way that there is no anger, no betrayal in the man's eyes when he sees him.

He _knows_ the person isn't Valentine, and as he pushes Max behind him, and raises his bow at the threat he tells himself that's the only reason he's able to fire at them.

The shadowhunter catches his arrow mere inches from their face, then the glamour falls to reveal a blonde haired woman only a year or so older than him. A woman he remembers meeting with Him back when he still believed him to be Lucian.

Lydia Branwell.

He remembered befriending her while "Lucian" was away on a mission, how she'd reassured him that the older man only had eyes for him...and suddenly he realizes she must be high in His operations for him to allow her to be seen by him.

So what was she doing here?

What was she doing coming to his Institute? No doubt, she realized that he would know who she was.

She met his gaze steadily, and a tiny glint of remorse flashing in her eyes.

"Poor reaction time. Only one of you saw the threat as it came in." She sent him a tight smile. "Nice job."

Turning to his subordinates, she raised her voice. "I am Lydia Branwell, the current envoy from the Clave. I will be here until further notice, so please, continue your daily operations as normal." Behind him, he saw a few of his people exchange looks, another few glancing over at his siblings.

He couldn't breathe.

Turning, still partially shielding Max from her gaze, he leaned forward. "Maxie, go to mom. Stay there until I come for you."

The child frowned at him, but seeing the tension lining his shoulders nodded and fled the room. Once he was gone, Alec turned back to the so-called envoy.

"We can speak in my office." She nodded.

Once they reached his office, he scowled at her. "How are you here?"

"I'm assuming you found out who Lucian was then?"

He sent her a sardonic smile, yet his eyes remained icy. "Hard not to when he nearly beats you to death and leaves you comatose on the steps of your institute."

She flinched slightly, then sighed. "He said you wouldn't remember me since we'd only met once. I'm supposed to gather information on the institute, specifically your parents."

His brow furrowed. "My parents?"

Lydia sighed. "Your parents were part of His Inner Circle and they betrayed him. He wants them dead. The only thing stopping him...is you."

A snort slipped past his lips,even with the shock coiling through him, and the derision in his face was plain for all to see. "Did you miss when I said he nearly killed me?"

"But he didn't." She replied and he almost cringed at the argument he'd once used to justify himself to his mother, was used against him. "And even if I wanted to leave, I can't. The Clave has an alternate reason for sending me here."

He stared at her and she hesitated. "They want us to get married."

***/***

"You should go talk to him."

Magnus hummed thoughtfully as Isabelle moved into place beside him, his gaze stuck on the handsome shadowhunter before him.

Isabelle's brother, Alexander.

The young man was gorgeous, with his thick dark hair and eyes, and yet, for all that Magnus continued to flirt with him he seemed to be just the slightest bit oblivious.

Yet, despite what his siblings thought, he could tell the boy wasn't.

He understood that Magnus was flirting, and several times, he'd caught those hazel eyes skating over him in obvious attraction. He'd seen the way he would blush when Magnus commented on his appearance, the way he seemed to be fighting their attraction to each other as much as he could and while he wanted to blame it on Alec's crush on Jace...he couldn't.

Not when such a crush seemed absent.

In fact, whenever Alec looked at his Parabatai there was nothing but a deep familial love, though he could see how the others could mistake it for something else when Alec so heavily protested Clarissa's presence.

And yet, he'd seen something in Alec pertaining to her too.

Fear.

Something about Clarissa, about her arrival had spooked the young Head of Institute and he had a feeling that it had nothing to do with his supposed feelings for Jace. No, this fear ran deeper, stronger than he'd seen on anyone not in Valentine's direct path, a place Alexander had no place to be.

Not when he was so obviously denying himself what he wanted to continue being the prime example of Shadowhunter.

"I do not believe he wishes to speak to me. Not with his wedding looming so close."

Isabelle scowled at the reminder.

Like him, she had been stunned when Alexander proposed the Clave envoy, her betrayal strong in her gaze. He had watched them, his heart aching for what could've been and yet he couldn't fault the other for what he had done. Not when he knew how the Clave treated those that didn't conform to their standards.

"He doesn't love her." The huntress protested and his lips curled wryly.

"And he doesn't know me."

Her scowl darkened. "But he wants to."

He shook his head with a sigh, turning away just as Alexander looked up at him. "Goodbye Isabelle."

***/***

He didn't want this.

She could see it, in line of his body, every tense feature that her "fiancee" didn't want this, and worse...neither did she.

When she had joined Valentine all those years ago, she had done so to get revenge on the Clave, on the elders that had sent her beloved to his death. The elders that had sent him into an ambush, then coldly, clinically told her that he had died a hero.

Then expected her to bury her pain and move on.

She had joined Valentine, who had promised her an outlet for the angry, hurting thing living inside her, convinced that even if she didn't manage to get her revenge, she would at least be able to join her love in the afterlife.

She had become one of his most trusted almost immediately, her tactical mind and steadfast loyalty binding her to him, and before she knew it he was tasking her with guarding his most treasured secret while he and a few others went on a critical mission.

His lover.

Her leader, one of the coldest people she'd ever met, one of the most passionate, had a lover and when she thought about it she had imagined someone just as cold, just as passionate.

She hadn't expected Alexander Lightwood.

When she met him, he'd been just a few months past his seventeenth birthday, slender but strong, with sharp eyes but a soft heart. He had invited her in, exasperation on his face as he apologized that she was wasting her evening to appease his lover's overprotectiveness.

She had taken his invitation and before she knew it...she'd befriended him.

It had made lying to him so much more painful, especially when she saw his relationship with her boss slowly change into something more possessive and controlling.

She hadn't told anyone that she'd been relieved to return one day to find him gone.

Thinking this, she couldn't help but push him toward Magnus Bane when the man crashed into the room. She had seen his interactions with the warlock and something about them tugged at her heart in a way she'd long since forgotten.

"It's okay," She whispered, seeing the fear in his eyes. "Go." _(Go to him, Alec. Don't let Him ruin this for you.)_

He swallowed thickly then turned and walked toward the warlock, pulling him into a burning kiss and she smiled, even as her heart leapt into her throat.

Valentine would not be happy once this development reached him.

Yet she couldn't find it in herself to regret it.

**TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

No.

Dark eyes glared at the frozen screen before them, fury, betrayal, and jealousy burning in their depths.

When sent Branwell to the Institute as the Clave envoy, he'd done so for two reasons. The first, was to alert his love that he was still watching. That he had eyes and ears in high places.

The other, was because he knew Maryse. His former Left Hand was a practical woman and he knew that with the girl's pristine record, neither Maryse nor Robert would be able to resist tying her to their son, especially if it kept him from falling into relations with a man once more.

So why was he seeing what he was seeing?

 _ **Why**_ was _**his**_ Alexander _kissing_ a _warlock?!_

Beneath his skin, his grace boiled, lashing against the tight control he held over it. Grabbing his phone, he dialed Branwell's number, watching as his love and the warlock broke away. Watching as his love paled slightly, his kaleidoscopic gaze flashing with that familiar gleam of fear, then he turned the screen off, snarling into the mouthpiece of his phone as the other end picked up.

"Get here. Now."

Hanging up, he slammed the device down, uncaring of how it crunched under his strength. Alexander _knew_ better. He _knew better!_

How dare he?!

And with a filthy warlock!

 _That_ filthy warlock.

Oh yes, he'd heard of Magnus Bane and his proclivities. Had fought the powerful magic user during his first rebellion and nearly died as a result. Bane had been the only warlock, the only _downworlder_ to get so close to killing him and now he dared to touch something that was so very obviously not his. And Alexander dared to let him!

He snarled wordlessly at the thought, burning black flames sparking at his fingertips before he ruthlessly boxed away his grace and forced his rage behind a wall of ice.

"Seems like I need to speed up my plans."

Knowing that despite his orders it would take a moment for Branwell to arrive, he grabbed his own seraph blade and left the room. Behind him the shadows wavered.

***/***

Panic.

Pure panic.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest as he stared into Magnus's dark eyes, his lungs constricting as the full weight of his actions registered in his mind.

"W-what did I just do?" He whispered, his gaze moving from the warlock to Lydia as her cell rang. He knew who it was even without the way her face seemed to drain of color. Knew it before he saw the fear that flashed in her eyes.

He knew.

And he was Furious.

And yet...he couldn't regret it.

His mother pulled him and Magnus from the room, fury and fear warring for dominance in her eyes. Behind her, his father stood with a stern expression, but anger lurked in his gaze.

"How could you be so careless, Alec?!" She snapped and he shuddered, adrenaline racing through his veins. "How could you kiss _him_ in front of the entire Clave?! After everything we've done to keep this from them?"

Magnus frowned in confusion. He'd been under the impression that Maryse and Robert were oblivious to their son's sexuality, especially given how hard they'd tried to push him into marrying his former fiancée. To learn that they knew and still tried to force him into a loveless marriage just dragged his opinion of them down at least until Robert spoke.

"Alec, can't you see we only want what's best for you? I can't bury you, son, and Bane is _powerful_. That man may not have finished what he started but Bane has the power to."

Something in Magnus' blood ran cold at the implications. Surely he was wrong. Lilith, please let him be wrong.

Alec shuddered, but held firm. "Magnus isn't like him. He's a good man, a good person."

Maryse scowled, but her gaze softened, a single hand cupping her son's cheek in a display of affection that left Magnus bewildered. So much about this scenario didn't make sense. "You barely know him, _hijo_. Monsters can be good men too, until they are angry. Until they have a reason to shed their masks. Betrayal rarely comes from those we aren't close to."

"I won't hurt him." Magnus interjected and Robert glanced at him, gaze cold and full of something he hadn't seen since he'd faced the man down during Valentine's rebellion. Since he'd watched the man cut down a pack of werewolves with nothing but a battle ax and his own fury.

Yet it was his wife that responded, her gaze never leaving her son's. "One chance, Alec. Only one. If he hurts you, I will use everything I learned under Valentine to make him suffer."

The archer smiled, a tiny smile, yet the fear lingering in his eyes didn't disappear nor did the panic. "Thank you."

***/***

Hodge had betrayed them.

Hodge had betrayed them and Jocelyn was still lying unconscious in the infirmary and yet Alec could feel that things weren't done.

Not by a long shot.

The waiting was making him anxious.

He knew Valentine, or at least the parts that his former lover had allowed to bleed through his facade. Knew the possessiveness and the darkness, the passion that the man couldn't hide and he knew that there was no part of him that would stand for Alec's kiss with Magnus. That would stand for the way Alec could feel his heart trying to open for the warlock.

Truly, it would only be a matter of time before the man attacked, especially when they also had Clary and her mother. Distantly, he couldn't help but wonder how she'd react knowing that the boy she'd once treated as a favored nephew had been in love with her ex-husband.

Wondered what it said about him that the thought of her with Valentine, the thought of the man being obsessed with her, sent a dark flare of jealousy through him.

"Alec?"

He glanced at his mother, who was watching him again, had been since his farce of a wedding. She was waiting for the high of being with Magnus to wan, waiting for the inevitable breakdown he'd have when he discovered that his heart was finally letting go of the man that had nearly taken him from her. He wanted to tell her that it had already come to pass.

Tell her that he'd spent the night after his wedding, after the attack, in his room and cried his way through a panic attack. That he'd choked under the weight of his sobs and that it was all he could do to keep Jace from feeling through their bond. He didn't. Instead, he hummed questioningly, turning his gaze back to what he'd been looking at.

Max.

His s- "little brother" was training under his diligent eye, his skill with his seraph blade eerily familiar in a way he dared not think about. Not while already on edge.

"Are you alright?"

No.

"I'm fine."

Just as the words left his lips, the institute's alarms blared and a cold dread washed over him.

"Max!" He barked. The child moved to his side immediately. Go to my office and lock the door. No one comes in, unless me or mom come to get you. Understood?"

Nodding, the boy raced off to do as he was bid, his heart racing in his chest as he heard an undertone in his brother's voice that he'd never heard before.

 _Fear_.

Maryse heard it as well, and resolved to stick to her son like glue. Something about this had her son terrified and she would find out why.

***/***

"He's here."

The words felt like ash in her throat as she took in the fear and anger in Clary's eyes, and the terror and determination in Simon's. Unlike her brother, she didn't care that Clary was Valentine's daughter, how could she? They were friends, and worse, their parents had been in the circle. To dislike Clary based on her parentage seemed a bit hypocritical, though she figured his dislike had more to do with her growing closeness to Jace. She wasn't blind, she knew her brother was in love with his parabatai, yet she'd hoped that Magnus' arrival would abate that. She'd seen the way the warlock's gaze lingered over her oblivious brother, the way her brother's eyes began to drift more to the warlock than his golden haired bonded and she'd hoped.

Then Alec had kissed him at the farce of a wedding her parents had set up and she'd thought they were finally getting somewhere. Yet Alec's feeling for Clary didn't seem to be getting any kinder. In fact, now that her mother had been saved, he seemed to be avoiding her, something unreadable lingering in his eyes whenever they landed on her, a strange tension hovering over him. She'd wanted to ask, yet she couldn't bring herself to.

Instead, she continued to comfort her friend, hoping he would come around.

A purple portal opened a few meters from the red-head and Valentine stepped through with three armed circle members at his side.

"Clarissa," he greeted, voice calm, yet there was something dark and fierce lurking in his eyes. "How nice to see you again. Where is your brother?"

Clary sneered at him. "You think I'd tell you?"

The man stepped forward and Simon lunged in front of her. "Stay away from her!"

Valentine flung him aside, the shadows shifting restlessly at his feet.

"Simon!" Lashing her whip, she wrapped it around the man's wrist to stop him from harming the young vampire only to gasp as he wound it around his hand and used it to toss her to the side.

"Stop!" Jace yelled as he burst into the room, seraph blade at ready. Izzy felt her heart leap into her throat especially as she, Clary, and Simon were grabbed by Valentine's companions, their blades at their throats.

"Finally ready to kill your own father?" The man murmured.

"You've been dead to me." Jace replied coldly and Valentine hummed, his attention seemingly divided.

"I was trying to protect you. You've finally become the warrior I've trained you to be."

The blonde's glare darkened. "I remember everything you taught me."

Valentine hummed. "Not everything."

The door opened and she felt her breath hitch as more circle members entered the room dragging Alec, her mother, and Magnus. Yet, Valentine continued to speak.

"And I know why. I know why you allowed yourself to forget what I taught you, when I myself nearly suffered the same fate. Maryse," He greeted mildly, walking past Jace as if the blonde didn't exist. "How _wonderful_ to see you again."

Her mother glared at him defiantly. "Valentine."

He ignored her, and Izzy felt confusion war with terror as that shark-like gaze locked on her brother. Alec stared back at him, his gaze full of emotions she couldn't name, and she felt as if she were intruding. Worse, she couldn't help but wonder why they seemed so familiar with each other.

" _Alexander_ ," the archer's name left his lips in soft breath of air, as if a prayer, and before anyone could react the man was standing right in front of her brother.

"Get away from my son!" Her mother shouted but Valentine seemed oblivious to her call. Instead he stood silent, the tension in the room mounting as if it could do nothing else.

"Get away from him!" Jace snarled, only to be thrown away from the man when he lunged for him. She struggled, stiffening as her own captor tightened his grip on her.

"Wait!" Clary yelled. "I have the Book! You can have it if you let us go!"

Valentine finally glanced away, the fatherly love he'd been projecting fading into mild interest, before he dismissed her and turned back to Alec.

"The book was never part of my plans," He said and Magnus, trying to get the man's attention off of his shadowhunter, spoke up.

"Then what was?"

To his surprise, that gained the rebel's attention and Izzy could see the flash of panic that went through her brother's eyes as the man turned to Magnus. When she saw his expression, she could see why.

There was nothing but fury and hatred in those eyes.

"Bane," He snarled, low and furious, his genial facade failing.

Magnus smirked. "You can't _still_ be mad that I almost killed you."

Valentine snorted, but the rage darkened, and behind him the shadows seemed to shift. "No," He agreed, voice calmer but still full of rage.

"Valentine." A plea, and she couldn't help but wonder why her brother was pleading with the madman. Returning to the archer, he smiled, dark and full of possession and fury.

"Oh, _mio angelo_ ," He purred. "I wish I'd had the strength to kill you."

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

For so long she'd wondered.

Since that night over eight years ago the question had haunted her, especially on nights when the memories became too much. Nights where she awakened certain she'd lost her eldest child only to find him awake in the training room or fast asleep in his bedroom.

As if it had been only yesterday, she remembered waking with the feeling of dread hot and heavy in her gut as the wards alerted her to the fact that one of her children was injured. Remembered the warring confusion and fear that had overtaken her, because none of her children had been on patrol and when she'd gone to bed only Alec had been gone. (A fact that hadn't bothered her because he had liked to take late walks if he couldn't sleep.)

Worse, she remembered the sight that had greeted her when she'd opened the Institute doors, her husband's horrified gasp the only indication that what she was seeing wasn't just a terrifyingly realistic nightmare.

Alec, her beautiful baby boy, lay unconscious on the steps, pale skin stained with blossoming bruises and blood. His arm was at an awkward angle, blood staining his lips and trailing down his chin. Worse was the way his breath rattled and stuttered in his chest, as if each breath took a greater toll on him than the last. She had wanted to think that a monster had done this and yet...the bruises were shaped like a human's fist, the mark on his jaw damning.

When they'd taken him to the silent brothers, his injuries too severe for infirmary, they'd been in for an even harsher awakening.

He hadn't fought back.

One of the brother's had told them that there was no sight of defense on their son, and, he'd added almost hesitantly, that hadn't been the most shocking part.

Had they not taken him to the Silent brothers, _two_ lives would've been lost that night.

Her son was one of Mihael's blessed.

He was pregnant.

He hadn't fought his attacker.

Had let someone close enough to hurt him.

The conclusion had enraged her.

She had snarled for them to find any trace of the man that had done this to her son but they'd only said that there was none. That only Alec could tell them who it was.

So they'd waited.

They'd waited, but when Alec had awakened he'd said nothing.

Had given away nothing.

Now, as Valentine's words registered in her mind, she realized why.

"Oh _mio angelo_ ," The bastard had breathed, one hand cupping her son's cheek, his smile possessive and dark, "I wish I'd had the strength to kill you."

Alec shuddered at his words, but the man's caress of his cheek turned into a bruising grip as the smile twisted. "You have a way of making me derail even my most well-thought plans. Tell me, my love, do you know why I spared you all those years ago?"

"Get the hell away from my son, Morganstern!" She snarled, yanking hard enough that she nearly broke free of her captor, but her former friend chuckled.

"Oh Maryse, Alexander has _always_ been mine. You knew this the moment he was born. Now Alexander, do you know why?"

The younger said nothing, looking away, stiffening as the rebel's free hand dropped to rest on his abdomen.

"No." He breathed and Valentine smirked.

"Yes." He responded. "Where is my son, beloved?"

Alec glared at him defiantly, but she could see the way his hands shook if only slightly.

"Jace-"

Those dark eyes narrowed and the grip he had on Alec's face tightened until it was almost bruising. "Do NOT lie to me. _Where_ is he?"

The archer flinched, but remained stubbornly silent and she felt a small measure of pride well in her chest at the tiny gesture of rebellion.

After a moment, Valentine seemed to realize that Alec wouldn't say anything because his eyes flashed a dangerous vivid blue.

"I see." He rumbled and at his feet, she saw the shadows shift. "I've been going about this all wrong."

The man leaned closer to Alec and kissed him, and she swore she could see something emitting a dull glow behind his teeth. The other stiffened, then a scream, the likes of which she'd never heard left him, while Valentine smirked in satisfaction. Taking the screaming shadowhunter from his follower, he turned, ignoring their cries for Alec, their snarled threats and left, taking her son with him. All she could hear as her own captor knocked her unconscious, were those cold parting words her whispered to the raven's writhing form.

"It's time to wake up, my love."

***/***

His father had taken his parabatai.

Jace stared ahead stunned as the events of the past hour raced through his mind, everything from the fear in his brother's eyes, to the pure obsession in Valentine's.

None of it made sense.

As far as he knew, Alec had never been in a relationship before Bane, and even if he had, how could they have missed the signs. And how had he come to fall for _Valentine?_ The man was a monster, something he'd known even when the man was pretending to be Michael Weyland, and worse he knew just how cruel he could be to people he "loved".

How had they even _met_?

Everything in him wanted to deny what he'd seen and yet…

Yet, he could still remember the intensity that had sparked between the two, the way Alec seemed to alternately flinch and lean into the man's touch. He could see the way Valentine had glared at Magnus as if he'd violated everything the man stood for and it occurred to him that the man must know about the two being an item.

Then there were the words Valentine had uttered to his brother.

" _Where is my son, beloved?"_

Could it be possible that he had a brother out here? And if so, how? Alec was a man, and therefore unable to bear children.

He snarled angrily, feeling his parabatai rune ache with echoes of pain from Alec's side of their bond and tried to push back feelings of comfort.

Beside him, he heard the other's beginning to stir and he scowled, fixing his gaze on the one person that seemed to know what was going on.

Maryse had a lot of explaining to do.

***/***

Something had gone wrong.

Despite the level of mischief he normally caused at his own institute, Max was extraordinarily smart and he could tell with each passing moment that something had gone horrifically wrong after he'd been sent to hide in his m-brother's office. With each moment, dread built in his gut, almost enough to make him nauseous when paired with the adrenaline racing through his veins.

Finding a seraph blade hidden under the desk, he grabbed it and moved toward the door, feeling a strange calm wash over him. Tightening his grip on the blade, he loped forward, slipping from the office with nary a word.

The Invasion seemed to be over.

All around him, he could see Alec's people tending to their wounded, those in good health working to gather the dead, both their own and the enemy's.

None of his siblings were present.

A small niggle of fear slipped into his calm and he stopped one of the passing shadowhunters.

"Have you seen my brother?"

The man frowned. "Last I saw, him and Maryse were heading to the library to warn your sister and the Fairchild girl."

He nodded and thanked the man, racing toward the library.

As he arrived, he saw his "father" arriving as well, the man's brow rising as he saw the seraph blade in his hand. He ignored the silent question, pushing the door open only to still.

He could see Jace awake and staring at Maryse's awakening form, curiosity and fury in his gaze. Isabelle, seeming just awakening, was helping the Fairchild girl up, the girl's pet vampire frowning as he muttered something under his breath about being rude. Meanwhile, Bane was awake as well, his dark eyes wide and stunned as he stared at Maryse.

There was no Alec.

"Where's Alec?"

Jace jolted while Isabelle's head flew up, both of their gazes locking on him wide and full of concern.

"Max-"

A quiet groan cut Jace off and they watched as their mother sat up, her dark eyes wide with anger and terror, as she immediately met their father's gaze.

"It was Valentine." She whispered and Robert frowned.

"What?"

"That night, the person who did it was Valentine."

The man paled, but his response was cut off by Max, who was tired of his question being ignored.

"Where is Alec?!" He snapped and Maryse's gaze softened.

"Max, you're supposed to be-"

"I don't care! Where is he?!" Panic began to build under his skin, shattering the calm that had briefly over taken him. "Where is my mother?!"

Above his head a light bulb exploded.

***/***

" _Where is my mother?!"_

" _Where is my son, beloved?"_

" _Where is my mother?!"_

Jace's heart stuttered to a stop, his bichromial gaze blown wide as Max's panicked words rang in his ears.

Max.

Of _course_.

Of all of their siblings, Max was the closest to Alec, and...now that he thought about it, he'd been very suspicious when the three eldest Lightwoods had returned home from the Silent Brothers with Baby Max. Something about their explanation had rang false in his ears at the time, but when he'd questioned it, Alec had waved him off.

Had told him the same story the others had told them and they hadn't questioned it.

Still that didn't explain the _how_.

Alec was a _man_.

Maryse didn't seem surprised by the child's words, only pulling him into her arms. Max struggled briefly, dropping the seraph blade he'd been holding as he trembled in her arms. When he pulled back, Jace swore he saw a glimmer of red-gold flash in the boy's eyes.

"Valentine took him." Magnus whispered.

Robert sucked in a harsh breath, and Izzy cut in.

"I think it's time you and mom tell us what the hell is going on. And why that psycho is obsessed with my brother."

Their father heaved a heavy sigh, then looked at Max. "Did Alec ever tell you?"

Max nodded. "He said he told me because he knew that one day he would be forced to face Valentine again. Said he didn't want someone else to find out and use that information against me."

Robert nodded and turned to the others. "For you all to understand, I have to explain from the beginning. The first being, just before your mother and I got married, Valentine created the Circle. I joined right away, along with my Parabatai, Michael, after all downworlders had taken my entire family from me and I wanted revenge. Maryse and Luke joined around the same time, after all the Clave had banished your Uncle and Maryse's parents had been killed by warlocks. Luke was Valentine's parabatai and Jocelyn his wife, they were involved the moment it began."

He glanced at his wife, who took over. "Valentine was once one of my closest friends. He was the one who officiated our wedding and when I found out I was pregnant with Alec he gave us his blessing. He also gave me something else, a supposed prenatal vitamin. Then Alec was born and I discovered that he had given me something else, though I never found out what. When the two met, on Alec's first birthday, it was-" She shrugged. "Alec was enamored with him, I had never seen him smile like that before and Valentine seemed just as awed. It was the first time since his mother's death that I'd seen him smile, actually _smile_."

She looked down at Max. "Then after I got pregnant with Izzy, he took over Alec's training. I don't know what happened before that, but Alec seemed reluctant, yet I couldn't keep up his training and Valentine is the best fighter I have ever seen...so I let him go. This time, Valentine didn't offer the vitamin he'd given me during my pregnancy with Alec so I began to grow suspicious. Celine, your mother, Jace, told me she thought Valentine was using her for one of his experiments and we hatched a plan to leave. I was set to leave first because I was closer to term, then she would follow a week later."

A tear slid down her cheek, shocking everyone present. "Celine never made it. She died in childbirth shortly after Robert and I left, then Jocelyn vanished into the Mundane world and until tonight I hadn't seen Valentine since."

Izzy scowled. "But you know why he took Alec."

Her mother sighed. "At first, I thought it was because when we defected, he'd been training Alec as his apprentice. It was only when he spoke of wishing he'd been able to kill Alec that I realized the truth."

"Why?" Clary asked, nearly inaudible and Robert took over.

"Because over eight years ago, we found Alec lying on the steps of the institute unconscious and almost dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, I literally almost cliffied this at "Where is my mother?!". I'm actually really happy I didn't.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The room went silent at the patriarch's words, their eyes wide. Briefly, Jace remembered waking to feel his parabatai rune burning only to find Alec and their parents gone.

He remembered being relieved when his rune didn't fade, even as concern tore at him because Alec was still gone. Remembered weeks of fuzziness on his brother's end of the bond, something that only happened when the other was unconscious or actively blocking him. Hoping that he had managed to anger his brother rather than Alec having been unconscious all that time.

He remembered when the three elder Lightwoods had returned to the institute after nearly a year in Idris, baby Max in tow. The way his baby brother had looked to Alec before he had accepted them and how Alec had seemed almost reluctant to let him go. At the time, they'd likened it to Alec's over-protective big brother tendencies going haywire over the new baby, and yet he could distinctly remember the way his brother's eyes had tightened when Maryse had introduce Max as their brother, the _pain_ in his gaze and it made his own heart ache.

It all made sense...and yet he still didn't understand.

"How did Alec have Max? He's a man." He blinked, turning to Magnus who had asked the question before it could escape his lips.

Robert frowned at him, then sighed. "What I say can never leave this room. If the Clave found out, Alec will either be imprisoned, killed, or _worse_."

They all nodded and he observed them for a moment then sighed.

"Alec is one of Mihael's blessed. A male shadowhunter gifted with dual fertility. This means that he has a higher chance of either impregnating a woman or becoming pregnant if his partner is male. Because of this, he possesses the internal reproductive system of both as angels are essentially genderless. When we found him, he was already pregnant with Max, although we discovered when he awakened that he'd been unaware of this when the child's father turned on him."

"Valentine almost killed him because he discovered the truth and tried to arrest him." Max interrupted softly, lying curled in Maryse's arms.

All eyes turned to him and he looked away. "Alec told me that he discovered the truth through his tutors and tried to arrest Valentine, but was punished for his "disobedience". He didn't fight back, said he was sure he would have died had Valentine not decided to stop." His lips curled downwards, kaleidoscopic gaze dark and angry.

"He loves him."

"He almost killed him!" Clary protested and to their surprise the child glared at her.

"He experimented on _your_ mother, and she _stayed_. Don't you dare judge _my mother_!" He snarled, and this time the entire room saw the way his gaze lit up a burning orange-red. "For all the hell that man put him through, he has rarely told me anything bad about him. In fact, just listening to the things he says, he gave more of a damn about Alec than anyone in this room has tried to in years! I don't condone anything he has done, nor what their relationship, but the fact remains that while all of you were so goddamn focused on your own lives, your own problems, Alec found someone that cared about him enough to put him first! Now we need to get him back before Valentine manages to lure him back in!"

Up above them another lightbulb burst and Isabelle turned to her parents, who were watching their grandson, wide-eyed.

"Why, exactly," she began, voice cool and harsh, "does Max have _magic_?"

Neither of them offered an answer.

***/***

_**Samael had betrayed him.** _

_**Even as he sat atop his throne in Edom, he couldn't help the way his grace ached at the betrayal of it's mate.** _

_**For eons, they'd been everything to each other, their Creator distant, though loving. It had been Samael that had praised his light, and his stars. Samael, whose warmth kept his darkest secret at bay, despite knowing nothing of its existence.** _

_**So why?** _

_**Why hadn't he just** _ **listened** _**to him?** _

_**Why had he been so cruel, snapping his wings and throwing him from the Silver City that he'd helped craft for the younger Angels.** _

_**Why had he chosen everyone else over him?** _

_**And** _ **why** _**did it hurt so much?** _

_**His grace was like a festering wound in his chest, abyssal wings frayed by edom's flames at the edges, even as the flames curled lovingly around him.** _

_**After all, they'd been his own creation, an imitation of the warmth of Samael's grace, yet too hot for most to stand.** _

_**A low mournful croon left his lips at the thought, and found himself distantly wishing for an end.** _

_**Anything was better than the half-life his mate had doomed him to.** _

_***** _ **/***

_**The Darkness was growing stronger.** _

_**Before, in the Silver City, he'd managed to keep it all at bay, hiding the few instances that slipped through as bouts of foul temper.** _

_**Yet here, surrounded by the other Fallen and the twisted souls of the human too impure for the Silver City, he could feel it growing stronger, more easily drawn to the surface. He'd also discovered the true purpose of his imprisonment in the infernal plane.** _

_**Punishment.** _

_**He was to punish the humans that landed in his realm, and with each passing day, each pound of flesh exacted he felt the Darkness weigh more heavily on his grace. His eyes, once starbursts of color had darkened to a deep bloody crimson, his hair falling in dark, soot colored waves down his back, the stars once studded throughout them, dimmed or edged with hellfire. Meanwhile permafrost dusted the tops of his wings, burning cold crystals tipping them.** _

_**He wanted to hate it, to hate** _ **them** _**and yet he felt nothing.** _

_**He'd gone numb.** _

_***** _ **/** _***** _

_**Fear.** _

_**The concept of it was not nearly as foreign to him as many would believe and yet he was still stunned to see it directed at him by the legions he commanded and the humans that landed in his realm. He knew why, though.** _

_**The Darkness had taken over.** _

_**Very rarely was he lucid enough to lament this fact, his days spent in a haze of** _ **redredredredred** _**and** _ **beggingpleadingpleaseno** _**as he lost himself. It was terrifying, and yet he knew it would only get worse.** _

_**Perhaps that was what had led him to where he was, deep inside his own mind, standing before a cage only two beings knew existed.** _

" **Heylel,"** _ **Murmured a voice, long forgotten and yet still as silky as it had always been.**_ **"Oh, Light Bringer , what have they done to you?"**

" _ **Amara," He greeted, hollowly. "I have a request for you."**_

_**There was a pulse of curiosity from his prisoner and his lips twisted into a brittle, broken parody of a smile and it knew what he would ask before he could even do so.** _

_**Mourning and anger pulsed through their connection followed by pain and understanding, acceptance.** _

" **It will be done** _ **."**_

_**Moments later a burning pain shot through him akin to what he'd felt was he Fell, then...there was nothing and he-** _

He woke up to find stunned dark eyes staring down at him.

He laughed.

***/***

Alexander was Heyel.

He'd known this since regaining his own grace and memories, had known it when he'd breathed a sliver of his grace into the younger man's mouth to awaken that dormant grace within him and yet…

He couldn't believe it.

He'd watched as the glamour the other wore fell revealing the light shimmer coating his skin, raven hair gaining a dusting of star dust and permafrost ( _which was new_ ), he watched as the runes shifted a new range of them carving their way across his skin into a pattern he remembered his love gaining after their battle with Amara so long ago.

Wings, black as pitch and dusted with the same stardust and permafrost burst from the other's back, their ragged tips coated in sharpened ice, then with a gasp, his love awakened and instead of starburst eyes, he found himself staring into burning crimson.

He'd expected many reactions upon their gazes meeting.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Hell, even an apology and yet Hey- _Lucifer_ had always been one for surprising him.

The beauty laughed.

A bitter, broken sound edged with hysteria and _madness_ , he laughed as if the universe had turned him into a cosmic joke and laughing was the only way he could react without crying.

And he didn't stop.

No, he laughed even as tears escaped his eyes, as the sound began to resemble sobs more and more, he laughed.

"Lucifer?" He whispered and the other barked out another dry sounding giggle.

"Can you still not say my name, beloved?" His lover responded and he swallowed thickly, closing his eyes pained as he gave in to his request.

" _Heylel_ ," He rasped, feeling his eyes burn with tears he had no intention of shedding.

How had this happened?

What had broken his fierce little love?

And why did that hurt so much, when he'd tried to do the same to him when he was still just Alexander?

" _My light,"_ He rumbled, their mother tongue falling from his lips as if it had never stopped. _"What has happened to you?"_

The other hummed softly, something dangerous dancing in that crimson gaze. Something that made the hair at the back of his neck stand up because he had always been the more dangerous of them. The darker one.

"Samael," The archer murmured, his lips curling into a vicious smile, even as his eyes slid closed. "You will regret not killing me."

Unbidden, Valentine felt his heart clench in his chest.

Somehow, he didn't doubt it.

***** _**/** _ *****

"Are you alright?"

Max stiffened at the question, turning to find the High Warlock that his mother was infatuated with watching him with warm, compassionate eyes.

Since learning of his true parentage (well, of his father) months previous, he had been wary of the Warlock. When his carrier had started talking about the man more, his voice soft in a way it only was when he talked about the early days of his relationship with his father, he'd begun to research the man.

What he'd found was far from reassuring.

A string of lovers, many of which he only kept for a few days. Powerful, with a strong dislike of nephilim and known for his party lifestyle. He hadn't been able to imagine that Alec would be able to change the man.

Yet, it wasn't all damning.

The warlock was known for helping shadow-worlder children in need, for helping mundanes when they needed and even occasionally shadowhunters. He was smart, worldly in a way Max's own mother was not and he just-

He hadn't wanted his carrier to get hurt again.

So he'd observed them.

He'd watched as his mother opened up around the man, the softer side of his personality peaking out cautiously around the warlock. Watched as someone else showed Alec that he deserved to be put first by someone, even as their siblings ran around after Max's half-sister.

He watched as mother began to fall in love again and he was happy.

Yet, he was also cautious.

Bane kept his cards close to his chest, and even when he let down some of his walls around Alec, there was always something scared and hurting lurking in his gaze.

Perhaps he'd had a Valentine of his own in the past.

Whatever the case, it made him wary because he knew if spooked the man would push Alec away and he didn't think his mother would be able to take that pain a second time.

It would destroy him.

"Maxwell?"

He jolted, blinking at the older warlock, remembering that he'd asked a question. Deciding to trust the man, he told the truth.

"I'm worried. Alec had a lot of mixed feelings for Valentine...and I don't think even he knows what all of them are. But I do know that he still loves him, even if that fact makes him feel guiltier by the day."

The other sighed, something old and haunted in his eyes.

"Falling in love," He began, softly, "can be the greatest wonder a person will experience and yet, if that love is betrayed, it will take even longer for the heart to recover, even if it will always have feelings for the one that broke it. Valentine, if what you told us was correct, was the first person Alec allowed into his heart. It is understandable that part of his heart still belongs to him."

Max nodded, looking up at the man, whose gaze was distant.

"He was starting to fall in love with you too, Bane. If you leave him in Valentine's grasp I will never forgive you."

The older man chuckled and turned to leave the room. "Come, I have a few things I want to teach you about magic."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late as hell, but I have absolutely no idea how I feel about this chapter...

**Chapter Ten**

He could still remember when his love began to change.

Since the war had ended, Heylel had mellowed into a calmer angel, the steel and blood at his core hidden beneath gentle smiles and the general warmth he brought to those around him. Only when he lost his temper did the darker side of him resurface and even then, it was only for a moment. A flash of crimson in his starburst eyes, a brief sharpening of his wings, none of which ever amounted to anything but a sharp tongue-lashing or the Light bringer storming off to cool down.

And yet, as he and their Creator began to focus more and more on the humans, on crafting and drafting the newest beings, Heylel began to withdraw, his bouts of temper becoming more prominent.

More dangerous.

Whispers began to spread, of rebellion, helped along by the way the stardust beauty drew and further and further from them, starburst gaze burning with darker unnamed emotions as each moment passed.

He'd wished he'd paid more attention.

Maybe then he would know why his lover was changing, his sharp wit so biting it was almost arctic. Why the younger angels began to tread around him, some carefully as if one wrong move would set him off, while others gazed at him as if he were the answer to everything they'd ever wanted.

He hadn't wanted to believe that his love, his _Light_ had rebelled.

And yet, their creator had confirmed it, something knowing in Their gaze, yet trapped behind unwilling lips.

Casting him from the Silver City had been the most painful thing he'd ever endured.

Gazing down at the silent form lying before him, he couldn't help but think it was also probably the decision he regretted the most.

In the two days since his love had awakened, the younger hadn't spoken a word to him beyond his admission the first day. Instead, he lay almost completely still in the bed he'd been granted, crimson eyes locked on the ceiling, expression blank and wings wrapped around him, in a parody of a blanket.

He hadn't even attempted to escape, even with his grace roiling restlessly beneath his skin.

Even him talking to the boy hadn't garnered a response, not even a glance.

It was frustrating.

This should've been a victory for him. After all, his beloved was at his side once more, their grace once more intertwined and yet-

It felt so much like defeat.

Yes, his mate had returned but, something had happened in Edom to taint his grace leaving it twisted and sharp, tattered. He avoided his gaze, not even bothering to glare in his direction as defiantly as he had at the institute.

It was as if someone had sucked all livelihood from him, leaving him a shell of himself.

He didn't like it.

It stopped now.

Eyes burning with his own grace, he growled and stormed over to the bed where the other lay.

"Alexander," He snarled. "Look at me."

He was ignored.

" **Alexander!"** His grace slipped into his voice and finally, _finally_ that crimson gaze moved.

His love blinked rapidly as if waking, then glanced at him, brow furrowing in the most expression he'd shown in the past few days.

"Yes?"

"You're ignoring me."

A single brow rose. "I was asleep. Besides, I'm your captive, Samael. Not your guest. I'm not obligated to entertain you."

He stilled. "Your eyes were open."

"And?"

"You said-" Shaking his head he let the subject go. Instead, he addressed the subject he'd originally come for.

"Our son," He began and the younger narrowed his eyes.

"My son."

"Where is he, Heylel? Why can't I sense him?"

Alec pursed his lips.

"Because before gaining my memories back, I knew how resourceful you were. I worked with the Silent Brothers and created something to hide him. From you and from the Clave. No magic, angel or demonic, can find him."

He gave a growl of frustration. "I'm doing what needs to be done! Those filthy creatures are a rot on the earth. They're the reason we were torn apart! The reason our comrades have fallen!" His wings shifted beneath their glamour, especially when his love snarled back, sitting up in the bed.

"No, you're the reason we were torn apart! Before, it was your obsession with the humans, your inability to look at the bigger picture and see the resentment growing in the ranks because why were they given Free will and we were not?! Then, in this life, you're a murderer! You keep asking about my son, you call me your beloved, but you _nearly killed me!"_ His voice broke, anger, rage, and heartbreak clouding his features.

"Did- did you even love me? Or was I just a useful pawn for you to use against my parents?"

Everything in him screamed for him to tell the truth, to tell him that hadn't planned to fall in love with him. That he loved him, that they belonged together, their grace forever bound.

He didn't. Instead, he allowed his expression to twist into as callous and cruel an expression he could, watching as something in those burning eyes dimmed and shattered.

"As I told Maryse, you have always been mine and you _will_ always be mine. To love is to destroy, Alexander." His voice softened against his will. "And the only one allowed to destroy you, is me. Therefore, the only one allowed to love you is me."

A tear escaped those eyes before they slid closed.

"I have never loved someone as much as I love you." Alexander whispered, the crimson draining from his gaze to leave cinnamon-tinted hazel in his wake. The devastation in his words just as clear as the resignation in them. "Even after you started to change, after I started to hate you in the darkest corners of my mind for making me feel so _weak_ , I still loved you. I'd tell Max stories about the man you were when we got together, and sometimes in my weakest moments I would imagine you there with us. That you were proud of him…"

His brow furrowed, heart clenching tight in his chest. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," His love replied softly, locking eyes with him. "I want you to know that I love you. And if to love is to destroy, then I will continue to love you. Even as I slide my blade into your heart."

He narrowed his eyes, allowing his own grace to shine through, just as powerful as it had been before. His hand twitched, anger burning through him at the threat, even though the tone delivering it was still gentle.

"Alexander," He growled warningly and Alec sat up, one calloused hand coming up to cup his cheek. He caught it before it could touch him, stiffening when, instead of pulling away, Alec leaned forward and kissed him.

For a moment, he kissed back, feeling almost like he'd been transported back in time. The feel of those plush lips on his own, the warmth of the body pressed against his, even the spicy scent he'd always associated with his love, all of it was like being back in the small apartment they'd once shared. It was as if he were just coming home to find the younger man waiting, all gentle smiles and soft words.

Then, Alec pulled away, and the present caught up with him.

This wasn't their apartment, it was his ship.

Alec wasn't his lover, he was his captive.

And yet...Alec had kissed him.

"You've forgotten my domain," Alec whispered softly and he scowled only for his eyes to widen in surprise.

"Wai-"

Somewhere on the ship, an alarm sounded and unbeknownst to all outside, ice began to creep up the side of the ship.

***/***

Something was wrong.

Jocelyn frowned as she watched Maryse pace around her office, eyes burning with a fury she hadn't seen since her friend had first joined Valentine all those years ago.

After waking her earlier that morning with the Book of White, she had been dragged to Maryse's office and interrogated thoroughly about everything she knew about where Valentine had kept her. All she'd been able to remember was the fact that there had been alot of water, and that despite what she'd thought, he had been less interested in her than she'd believed. She told Maryse that while she'd been sleeping she'd heard him saying the name Heylel, and that even before she had originally left him he would often say the same name.

They'd scoured the Angel codex, but there had been no angel, shadowhunter, or demon by that name.

There was nothing for them to go on.

She'd asked her own questions in turn and had been stunned to find that the boy she'd once seen as her nephew had once entered a relationship with her former husband, leaving his family none the wiser. Though...it had explained the lessened obsession he'd had with her.

"Maybe we should call Luke. If anyone would know, it wo-"

"Actually," Another voice cut in and she turned to find Magnus Bane standing in the doorway of the office, Maryse's youngest son standing beside him, kaleidoscope colored eyes staring directly at her.

"I know someone who may tell us who Heylel is and what their relationship is to Valentine and Alexander. Though it will not be free."

"Who?" Maryse asked, desperation in her voice and the warlock sighed. "A greater demon by the name of Asmodeus."

"The current king of hell?"

He nodded, stepping aside as Maryse's husband and her other two children (one of which looked familiar) entered the room, Clary trailing behind them.

She expected her friend to say no, to demand that he think of another way but she didn't. Instead she only nodded, dark eyes calculating.

"Do you know how to summon him?"

"You can't seriously be thinking of summoning a Greater Demon in the middle of the Institute! Are you trying to get yourself deruned?"

Maryse glared at her, then turned her gaze back to Magnus. "When can I talk to him?"

"If we portal to my loft, I can summon him in twenty minutes."

With a sharp nod, she turned and retrieved a few files before turning to Robert.

"Keep an eye on things. Valentine still has spies all over, even here."

He nodded, never a man of many words, and Jocelyn watched as Magnus, Maryse, and Maryse's two sons portaled away. Once they were gone, she was left wondering just what had changed and how everything had changed since she'd left the shadow world.

***/***

Only two demons still remembered that he hadn't always been Edom's king. While the former King had only been gone for a millenia, few had ever seen him in person to begin with so they assumed that Asmodues had always been the King. After all, he had been the closest to the Fallen Angel, being the highest ranking angel that had fallen after him, a cherub that had believed too strongly in free will and power. He had been the first angel created after the Archangels, and watching the mate bond between Michael and Lucifer splinter then tear, had enraged him.

Lucifer had been his favorite of the elder angels even as he became more prone to anger, his gentle nature and generally warm nature drawing people to him. When they'd been cast into Edom, he had tried to help, holding on to just enough of his nature from Before that he was able to keep a single strand of compassion.

He'd had no qualms attaching it to the Angel that had been there to teach him in his fledgling days. And, when Lucifer's madness took over, he used that compassion to try and draw him back. He had never been successful and when the older Fallen fallen had suddenly faded...he hadn't even been surprised.

This said, very few knew of Lucifer's existence, or that he'd faded.

Fewer knew that before becoming Lucifer he'd had another name. Once struck from history.

One he'd never expected to hear again, especially out of his own son's mouth.

"Magnus," He rumbled, stunned to have been summoned by his wayward son. Very rarely did the boy summon him, and never had he done so in front of Raziel's pet projects. "I have to say, I wasn't expecting a call this century."

His son shifted, uncomfortable but trying to hide it. One of the nephilim, a mere child, stepped forward, his appearance familiar yet not.

"We have a couple of things to ask you, Asmodeus."

"And you think I will answer freely?"

The child shook his head. "No,we know you won't. Name your price."

He chuckled, amused, especially when he sensed the magic centered around the bracelet on the child's wrist. Magnus took over.

"If you answer, I will spend one week a year in Edom for the next decade."

His lips curled into a smirk despite himself. "Ask your question."

His son glanced at one of the older Shadowhunters, then sighed, yet his question stilled him in his tracks.

"Who is Heylel?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody, so you may have noticed that updates are slowing down. Unfortunately, classes have started back up as has my second job so updates and replies to comments will be more sporadic. I have a vague outline of how the next few chapters are gonna go, but I want your opinions on a few things.
> 
> Endgame: Malec or Valec?
> 
> Valentine: Death, Jail, or Redemption?
> 
> I already know which ones I'm planning to go with, but I find myself curious about how you all feel about everything. Happy reading and stay safe :-)

Chapter Eleven

Passionate.

If there were ever a word needed to describe all that Valentine was, passionate was probably the one that Alec had first attributed to him. The man felt things more deeply than anyone he'd ever met, even before their shared past had been forcefully revealed to him. However, after?

After learning their past, he had found that Samael, or rather, Michael was the same way. The older angel had been just as fierce as the element he wielded and never was it more clear to him then in this moment.

As the alarms of the ship blared around them, the ship itself creaking ominously, all the fire in his former lover seemed focused on him. There was something on this ship, or someone that his beloved didn't want to lose. However, the man also didn't want to leave him alone, not when he'd just admitted to being behind the ship's impending demise.

As the man snarled soundlessly, and paced indecisively, Alec watched him. He watched him, his heart aching because he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't be able to kill this man. No, matter the war the mortals were waging against him, no matter the betrayal that still lanced through him both from his mortal life and his original one, he knew he would never be able to land the blow that killed the fierce warrior in front of him. He also knew that his former lover was much the same way.

After all, he'd had several opportunities.

The first, that horrible moment so long ago when he'd cast him from the Silver City they had helped build. Had broken his wings, their bond, and his heart all at once then forced him to fall. Left him to burn as he fell into Edom then lose himself to the Darkness without their bond to ground him.

The next shortly before his own demise, when in the deepest throws of his madness he had created demon after demon and waged war against the home he had once protected. When Raziel had first created the shadowhunters as counter measures against the demons. He and Michael had battled then, for the first time on opposing sides and yet though the other had defeated him, he hadn't landed the fatal blow. Instead he had turned to walk away only to be struck down by the Greater demon Beelzebub. It had been one of the deciding factors that had led him to that Cage deep inside himself.

Then, there was the most recent, and arguably most painful time.

When his relationship with Valentine had ended as Alec.

He could still remember the way the anger in the man's blows was offset by the impassiveness in his voice. The way he'd beaten him with the intent to kill him, possession and anger and jealously stifling in the air around them because the man wanted to ensure he didn't leave like Jocelyn had. He remembered being sure that the older man was going to kill him and falling unconscious just as he stopped. He remembered the brief moment of consciousness he'd had on the institute steps, the fear in his mother's eyes and even the slight feeling of shock he'd felt when he realized that he was only alive because his lover left him that way.

Each time, his love had stopped short of landing the blow that would end him, and while the man continuously refuted the thought that what they'd had was real, everything he did contradicted him.

And yet, rather than the knowledge softening his heart…all it did was leave his heart aching.

Pained.

"I won't run." Dark eyes shot up and locked on his, their owner stopping mid-stride.

"What?"

"There's someone, or something, on this ship that you want to save. If you leave…I won't run."

Valentine sneered at him, eyes flashing at his words, and he bit back a gasp as the other grabbed him harshly yanking him to his feet. He stumbled by allowed himself to be led, curious.

"Where are we going?"

"My son is on this ship." He admitted and Alec remained silent. Instead he allowed his ice to climb higher up the ship's hull and tried to pretend the danger roiling beneath the surface of his skin was nothing but dread.

Beneath the ship the water roiled.

*/*

"Did you know this is how things would go?"

The Creator turned as a voice reached their ears, lips turning down at the question. Though emotions were very much a mystery to them, the ache they felt when looking upon the ill-fated mates that had once been their closest companions was very much felt.

Especially when they felt the turmoil roiling inside them both, the madness the Heylel hadn't seemed to notice still lingered beneath the surface.

"I did not." They replied softly. "Though I knew Heylel would struggle to contain you, that it may lead him to be ostracized from the other, never did I realize that he would suffer as he did."

"Why did you cast him out?"

"I did not." The creator repeated, their voice pained. "Megatron was the one to give the order, while I was recovering. When I returned, my Light-Bringer had fallen, and My Right Hand was losing himself to grief. The only mercy I could grant my Right Hand was to cast him from the Silver City and implant him in the human cycle, especially after Heylel tried to kill himself by freeing you."

"You interfered." Amara murmured softly and her counterpart nodded.

"I did. I cast Heylel into the reincarnation cycle after he freed you. I also ensured that half of your power would remain bound to his essence, as it would have fallen apart without it after being bound to you for so long. Even now, he is bound to you, which is the only reason the Madness of Edom has yet to remerge."

"Yet, if he has to fight his Beloved, it will. And your creation will be destroyed in the aftermath."

Her counterpart smiled, "Have faith, Sister. They may surprise you."

*/*

"Who is Heylel?"

Magnus could tell the moment the question left his lips that he'd caught his father's attention. The Greater demon had stilled, eyes widening before he sighed heavily, suddenly far wearier than Magnus had ever seen him.

"That name is not in the Angel Codex. Nor is it in the Demon Codex. How have you come to know it?"

The warlock frowned. "The rogue shadowhunter, Valentine Morgenstern. His wife mentioned that he would say the name as he slept and that when he kidnapped her, she heard him continuously say it."

His father frowned. "It shouldn't be possible. Even most angels and demons do not know that name. He changed it, just after the birth of the Arch Angels. Even I only learned it after he Fell."

Max stepped forward and Magnus found himself stunned by how fearless the child seemed. "Do you know the name Samael?"

He frowned, wondering where the name had come from. Like Heylel, that name wasn't in the Angel Codex either…and yet looking at his father, he could tell the Greater Demon had heard of that name as well.

"You are far too young to know that name, little Nephilim. How do you know it?"

The child hesitated, glancing at them. "My mother, he used to have these nightmares. In them he would beg for forgiveness from someone named Samael. He would ask why he chose someone over him. Why- "

"Why he wouldn't believe him." Asmodeus finished and Max nodded. The demon sighed, something in his eyes softening.

"I was the first angel to be created after the Arch angels. A cherub. When I was created the archangels were still fledglings, with Lucifer and Michael being the oldest. They raised us, taught us to fight and fly, and as the number of angels grew, they taught us more. How to groom each other, how to use our elements, everything. But they began to grow colder toward each other. Michael worked with the Creator molding their new project the humans, and Lucifer began to withdraw, growing angrier and when the War began, we weren't even surprised. Whispers began that Lucifer was starting a rebellion, they were false, but enough people believed them that Michael's supporters attacked Lucifer. He fought back, and in a bout of rage…he killed them. He was charged with high treason shortly after and cast out. Those of us that supported Lucifer fought to retrieve him, fought to prove his innocence and it was believed that we rebelled. We were cast out shortly after." He paused for a moment, gaze far away.

"When I arrived in Edom, Lucifer had isolated himself, especially when human souls began arriving. Yet something had changed in him. After all, time in Edom moves fast than in any other realm. In the decades that we had been fighting, he had spent centuries alone and it had driven him mad. At times he was lucid enough to speak, others he could barely remember where he was and who he was speaking to. He grew more violent and most of the demons weren't even aware that he was there. They thought he perished and all orders he had to give, were given through me. And so, when Lucifer faded nearly a millennia ago, no one knew but me."

Magnus pursed his lips. "What does this have to do with Heylel and Samael?"

His father met his gaze evenly. "Everything. Michael and Lucifer were the very first angels to ever come into being. Lucifer told me, in one of his more lucid moments, that he and Michael had only changed their names to blend in with the Archangels. They had decided to leave their old names behind. Samael became Michael and Heylel became Lucifer. If those two shadowhunters truly know those names, then your entire realm is in trouble."

Dread built in his gut, and beside him, Maryse spoke for the first time since the demon had began to speak. "Why?"

"Lucifer and Michael are the strongest angels in existence. If they were to fight each other, the sheer amount of power they'd use would destroy your world. While Lucifer is in love with Michael and always had been, I wouldn't trust the Creator's Right Hand to hold back, even against his mate. Though if this rogue shadowhunter is Michael, then his hatred for shadow worlders makes more sense."

"Why is that?"

"Michael blames the demons and those that share their blood for the loss of his mate."

"How can we stop them?"

Asmodeus glanced at Max. "Boy, your mother has magic does he not?"

The child nodded. "How-"

"Its concentrated in that bracelet you're wearing. Moreover, you said that your mother was crying for Samael and the only one who would do so is Heylel. You are the key to stopping them from destroying your world."

Max flinched. "Me?"

The Greater demon nodded. "Neither as Lucifer, nor as Heylel has he ever been able to stop himself from protecting those that are dear to him. He would stop himself if only because you asked it of him, but be warned, his love for Michael is strong. If there is a way to save the Right Hand he will try. You will have to kill him, because Lucifer will not."

Magnus nodded. "Thank you. In return for your information I offer that I will spend one week every year in Edom."

Asmodeus shook his head. "Consider this a repayment of a debt. Lucifer has done a lot for me, and in giving you this information, he may be able to save-"

A sudden burst of magic hit them, and Max gasped.

"Alec…" He whispered and his father waved a hand, vanishing.

"I'll see myself out." Echoed in his wake and the warlock shared a glance with the three shadowhunters.

"We need a plan."

A sudden thought crossed both Max and Jace's minds and they looked at each other, before turning to Magnus.

"No, we need Izzy."

Maryse seeing what they were thinking smiled.

Magnus frowned. "Explain."

"There are three people in the world that Alec would never be able to hurt." She led and he smiled.

"Isabelle, Jace, and Maxwell."

She nodded and he opened the portal just in time for a wave of cold shot through them all. Pulling the young woman through and explaining everything to her, he couldn't help but pray that they would make it in time.

Everything else could wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, this chapter is a bit shorter than normal (and Hellishly late). Sorry about that. I'd promise to do better, but classes and work are kicking my ass so...yeah. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it. :-)

**Chapter Twelve**

The ship was sinking.

Impassive crimson eyes watched idly as the man before them helped a man only a bit younger than their owner from the ship as ice crawled up its hull and crushed it. In most instances, there would've been a stronger reaction, dismay then relief if they were allies, pleasure then disdain if they weren't and yet-

Yet there was nothing there.

It felt as if in the time it had taken them to reach Valentine's son, the emotions that had been raging and roiling within him had drained away, leaving an empty husk behind. It was an episodic turn of events that he'd grown used to in Edom, especially when his broken mate bond left him vacillating wildly between extreme emotions and the all-consuming numbness he was currently feeling. He could only hope that the numbness would last, for he feared not even his mate would survive the madness and rage that would follow it, if the cycle remained true. Only his assurance to Valentine that he wouldn't run kept him from fleeing from the thought, yet it didn't stop the faint echo of fear that tried to breach the numbness.

There was a louder resounding crack and he glanced at the wall, noting that they had less than five minutes before the ship gave way completely.

He said nothing, unruffled by the impending danger. After all, his ice would do what he wanted, nothing more nothing less.

Valentine, having heard the crack as well, stiffened then glared at him before nearly dragging his companion to the dock. Alec followed behind them, and the second his feet were firmly on the dock, he allowed his ice to completely crush the ship. His love's son cried out in surprise, flinching back while Valentine glared at him.

"My men were still on that ship." He rumbled.

"Sorry." The older man's glare darkened at the completely uncaring one in his voice.

"What exactly is your plan, Alexander? You have yet to escape, despite having ample opportunity and we both know I don't have nearly enough men to recapture you."

The numbness wavered, and he could feel the maelstrom stirring, yet he found himself incredulous that his former mate thought him stupid enough to believe him.

"You have more than enough men. You would never keep your entire force in one place for fear of it being attacked."

Valentine's companion scowled. "Father-"

"Silence, Jonathan." The boy fell quiet sullenly, glaring at Alec. The other returned his stare with an eerily empty one and he shuddered, looking away hastily.

"Knowing so, what exactly are you planning, Heylel?" He replied, his voice taking on that silky tone that it had that night so long ago. But the numbness had yet to fade, had yet to release the madness and he was thankful for it if nothing else.

"This needs to end." Ice gathered at his fingertips and within moments a bow of ice was in his hands. "This. _Needs_. To. **End**. Samael."

His lover smirked.

"Does it?" And yet a seraph blade appeared in his hand, shining a deep black in compared to their normally blue-white glow.

Eyes burning crimson, Alec took to the air, hoping the numbness would last long enough for him to do what needed to be done.

If not…

Something dangerous flashed against the wall of ice within him, the waiting madness or agony, he didn't know.

And even as Valentine took to the air behind him, he hoped he'd never find out.

***/***

"What the hell?" Luke whispered, staring up at the sky wide-eyed.

When he'd caught Valentine's scent so close to his pack, he'd been nervous and furious, especially after hearing that the bastard had attacked the Institute and taken Maryse's eldest son.

He'd rushed out, hoping to confront his former parabatai and yet this-

This wasn't what he was expecting.

Valentine was in the air, held aloft by large black wings, tips wreathed in flame and a pitch-black seraph blade in his hand.

Opposite of him was Alec, eyes burning crimson and wings just as dark, though his feathers were more tattered and seemed sharper at the edges. In the young man's hands was a gleaming white bow, edges pointed like spear-tips and he was willing to bet that they were just as deadly. He went to yell for them, only to jolt as a portal opened a few feet away from him.

Maryse was the first one out, followed by Jocelyn, Clary, Isabelle, Jace, Magnus and a young shadowhunter who couldn't have been older than ten. All six stilled at the sight, just as he had.

The two beings in the air didn't even seem to notice them, only having eyes for each other and it took him a moment to realize that they'd begun to move.

The two began to clash midair, fighting with a ferocity that he'd never seen either move with, and, matching each other move for move.

"What's going on, Maryse?" He asked the woman and she glared at him, then turned her gaze back to the fight.

For a moment he was sure she wouldn't answer, then she sighed.

"Valentine and Alec have history, it seems. Your parabatai seduced my son, then when Alec found out who he was, he nearly killed him. Left him near death on the steps of the institute." She heaved a soft breath, flinching as Alec seemed to freeze mid-swing, allowing Valentine to strike him. The archer went flying, hitting the water below them with a harsh splash.

"Mom!" The young shadowhunter cried and Valentine's gaze flashed in their direction, eyes flashing a bright blue as he flew toward them.

Alec still hadn't come back up.

The rogue shadowhunter landed in front of them, wings twitching, but his gaze was soft as they landed on the boy that had accompanied Maryse.

Jace snarled at the man, before flinching, turning his gaze to the water wide-eyed.

Valentine paid him no heed, focused on the boy.

"Maxwell," He greeted. "Do you know who I am?"

Magnus moved as if to pull the boy behind him, but the child seemed unafraid, glaring at the elder shadowhunter.

"Yes."

"Then you know that I expect you to join me."

Maxwell's glare darkened.

"You almost killed my mother."

"He betrayed me. His suffering was a result of his own disobedience."

Alec still hadn't come back up.

But the air-

The air was growing thicker, colder, heavier.

He couldn't breathe.

Valentine stilled, mouth open as if to continue, then he turned just as a black blur shot from the water and slammed into him.

"Sweet Angel…" Maryse whispered eyes wide and he nodded numbly. Alec had finally resurfaced and was darting after the rogue, who had shoved him off and took to the air. Permafrost coated his feathers, sharp ice crystals tipping his wings but it was eyes that had drawn their attention.

No longer were they burning and empty.

_No._

Madness bright and incandescent danced in their depths, tinged by an ancient sort of rage and betrayal, the like of which they'd never seen and-

And Luke couldn't help but be terrified.

Faltering back a step he couldn't help but wonder if he should take his pack and run. After all, something within him screamed that this-

This was not a fight he would win.

*/*

Beautiful.

He'd never had a chance to see his beloved once he'd thrown him from the Silver City, had never seen him held in madness' grasp but he'd never imagined he would find it as beautiful as he did.

Sure, he'd caught glimpses of it, had seen the way his love's once star-studded eyes had flashed with danger when his bouts of rage hit, but this-

This was something else entirely.

Crimson, darkened to near black and burned into him with their intensity, their rage, a furious snarl curling those plush lips and he couldn't help but fall a little more in love.

After all, this- this was Heylel as he _should_ be.

A ferocious warrior, one of the best he had ever seen, no longer tempered by his archangel persona, or the shadowhunter he'd been in their current life. No this was the angel that had helped their creator beat the Darkness, had saved his life countless times before that. This was what Hell had taken and hardened, had shattered and reshaped and he knew with the utmost certainty that the fight coming would be the most difficult he'd ever fought.

He bared his teeth in a savage grin, grip tightening on his seraph blade as he lunged at his lover.

The other met him with the shaft of his bow, frosted wings flaring, then they were _moving._

Faster than any of the beings on the ground could keep up, they fought in a way they hadn't in millennia, not since that fateful battle that had led to his love being charged with treason. Shockwaves rocked the air with each clashing blow, the air heavy with charged grace as spears of fire and daggers of ice were thrown.

It was exhilarating, the madness that had been dancing on the edges of his psyche since their mate bond had shattered causing him to release a delighted cackle.

Swinging his blade toward his mate, a glint from below caught his eye.

A seraph blade was flying through the air, directly toward the nape of Heylel's unprotected neck.

No.

_No!_

Using the momentum from his swing he hooked his blade through his mate's bow and pulled him forward, using a flap of his wings to switch their places…

Just in time for the blade to go through his back and pierce his heart.

**TBC…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that enjoyed the Valentine/Alec dynamic in this story, I'm working on a few other stories with this pairing. One is a cursed soulmates story and the other is an alternate version of this story. I'm hoping to finish the first few chapters in the coming months but with two jobs and grad school, honestly who knows.


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